


Arcane Dissonance

by CodenamePhantom



Category: One Piece
Genre: An army of issues, And there are motherfucking dragons, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But it's awesome because it's One Piece!, But they don't know that, Creating an entire culture around dragons is hard, Culture Shock, Dominating Kid, Dominating Law, F/M, Flashbacks, Humanity is a bitch, I have no clue what I'm doing half the time, I should go to jail for terrorizing my poor OC's, I'm an evil author, Law and Kid get hot and bothered by winged lizards, Law and Kid get the Asshole Award, My OC's aren't human, My OC's find that out slowly, My OC's have issues, My story has a complicated plot, Or would it be species shock?, Possessive Behavior, Self-Insert, They also love playing hard to get, They're trying to be human and failing, This is NOT a fluffy romance fic, Who doesn't like dragons, dragons!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 113,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7605022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenamePhantom/pseuds/CodenamePhantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two. It defined them perfectly. Two sides of a coin, two shades of the same color, two ends of a spectrum. It was only appropriate that they would share two very different agendas; one striving for salvation, the other a martyr's death. As they wade into deeper artifice not only will they contend with an old adversary but two very determined pirates as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story here! Yay for finally uploading it! I hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> Note: I do not own or claim any of the dragons! They belong to Dragon Cave. If you haven't heard of it, then you should definitely try it out! It's badass! Hell, it even inspired me to write a story! Also I don't own One Piece! Ace would be alive if I did!

…Shinsuitama…

… Baransuitama…

…Kinsuitama…

…Kaiketsuitama…

Four names that have faded from the memory of the world. Like ash thrown to the winds they fell into the depths of time, and though they may be forgotten their essence still whispers within the minds of the Gifted.

Whispers of a time long past. A time before the rise of corruption and hate, a time where the world and its innocence remained untainted by tyranny. It was a peaceful world; the blood of man had not been spilled, nor had it turned on its brother. Mankind lived quietly and happily, however they were not the sole beings to inhabit such blissful ambience.

Living alongside them were the Four Great Sea Spirits. No one truly knows how they came to be, yet it was common knowledge to all that they belonged to the sea just as man belonged to the land. They were magnificent creatures. Winged beasts so massive, so mighty that to even catch a glimpse of one was looked upon as a sacred benediction. Amazed by these creatures of wisdom and strength man grew to revere their celestial neighbors as deities.

The coexistence between human and dragon was a contented one, each ruling their own domains while admiring and watching the other. And so paradise stretched over the decades.

But evil stirred in the wake of such happiness; it watched and waited, waited for that one opportunity to tip the scale.

An opportunity it found lurking in the hearts of the new generation. Youth had no experience, no resistance to the unseen hand of sin; with a touch here and a nudge there the seed was planted.

It would be many years of peace before the seed sprouted but evil was patient in its game.

Oblivious to the plot against them the Great Sea Spirits along with their mortal companions lived on. The new generation grew as all children do. Time past, new lives were made, new hopes and dreams molded the actions of children long gone from their parents strong embrace.

Ever vigilant of their offspring the parents watched, watched as the new generation grew wild and adventurous. No longer were they content to live as their elders had lived. To worship and admire from afar.

No. They sought the unknown and the dangerous. They sought the sea.

And so the new generation strayed from their domain. Strayed into territories not theirs to tread.

Shock and tragedy.

Pain and loss.

And finally—Death.

The Four Great Sea Spirits keened in horror at this onslaught of chaos the sea had wrought upon the mortals. They did not deserve such loss and the grief that came with it. They were gentle creatures not beasts of destruction, though the sea was wrathful at times it was not murderous. They would never purposely harm those who would show such devotion and love, never take something so precious as a soul.

Ashamed the Four Sea Spirits gathered all those that had been lost at sea and with pain in their hearts they lamented quietly the loss of life.

Evil cackled in sweet triumph. It chortled in its victory and danced around the bodies of the dead.

Enraged shrieks and snarls ripped from the Four Sea Spirits at this atrocity. This malignant force dared touch what had so tragically fallen. It would not taint such innocence.

Evil grinned and smirked at them, Oh but I already have.

The Four Sea Spirits glared at the inky blackness, hate shimmering in slitted eyes.

A stalemate.

A Stillness.

A decision.

As one the Four Great Sea Spirits turned their horned heads toward the sky. Their voices rose to the heavens, blending seamlessly into a roar for retribution. Within the depths of their eyes shown the flickering glint of the stars, the almost inconceivable amassing of power. Terrible power. The oceans raged around them, wind howled, and the earth shook and exploded—

Then it stopped.

Deafening silence.

The inky cloud of evil abruptly let loose a screech of rage and terror, recoiling back into the shadows. It hissed like a coiled snake at the corpses which were corpses no longer.

New life ascended, bodies warmed, hearts palpitated, and evil was beaten down by the awakening of the Gifted. For that was the decision. With the blessings of the sea the lost were reborn anew.

But not to humanity would they return; they woke to a new existence. One of hardened scales and freedom. Of endless flights and longevity. This was the gift. A selfless act. A giving of ones essence.

The Gifted rose to their feet, slowly, cautiously. Arms stretched, clawed fingers extended, and smiles brightened solemn expressions. Camaraderie borne of mutual circumstance and wonder bonded the Gifted together. And though they were not consciously aware of such an occurrence they instinctively accepted it.

Crowing in jubilation they rejoiced in their second chance, eternally grateful to the Spirits of the Sea.

Enlivened with life and friendship the Gifted returned to their former domain of land and soil. Cries of shock and relief prevailed followed by exclamations of awe as they retold the tale of their rebirth. Families reunited, couples kissed, and friends reconnected.

But darkness still lingered yet its source did not stem from evil. No, nothing so grand. This darkness crawled out of the hearts of man. Those few who did not delight in the appearance of the Gifted.

Instead they filled the air with acrid words of envy. Jealousy and hate festered between them, eyes dark with lust and greed. They craved for the power of the Gifted. Coveted it relentlessly. Why were they, the rulers of the land, not given the gift of immortality. They were royalty, surely they had far more entitlement then those who'd been lost at sea. The kings could only view this thinking as the truth, being wrong was an impossibility to them.

Alight with anticipation they traveled to the nearest temple.

The Four Great Sea Spirits, though, had grown wise to any happenings of malice. They would never again allow such horror to befall a second time, and seeing the scourge of corruption in the souls of those twenty mortals had already sealed their fate.

They were not worthy of being a Gifted.

Anger, fury, and hate seared the veins of those twenty mortals. They had been denied. They, the rulers had been told 'no'.

Failure.

It repeated itself like an unending mantra, rending and roiling until it grew too overwhelming for them to handle.

That one word opened the floodgates of wrath and damnation. It thundered and flailed like a live thing, wanting blood, wanting revenge. Suffering. And like loyal minions they dutifully unleashed it.

Twisted with undiluted fury the twenty kings ripped asunder the very existence of the Gifted. Hell descended unto the world once more, a world still not at all healed from its first calamity. Something so new, so pure and precious; it could not stand up to this reckless hate. And with the threat of annihilation looming over their heads the Gifted disappeared, drifted off into the abyss of time, soon forgotten by the world. Wiped clean from memory, from all those that had loved them so.

Gone. Vanished.

Without a trace.

But the presence of the Gifted still lurks within hidden shadows, their legacy unbroken despite civilization's refusal to acknowledge them.


	2. Advent Wyvern Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you get when you mix Celestial Dragons and real dragons together? A lot of insulted anger and sardonic mischief. Here, our main characters square off with the descendants of the creators of the world! Let the sparks fly!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. I also don't own any Evans Blue lyrics. Or any lyrics I use in this story. There will be a lot of lyrics. Yay for song fics! But I do own all of my OC's. Any dragons described belong to Drag Cave. I'm borrowing them because they're awesome! 
> 
> Read and review! Tell me what'cha think! Or don't...
> 
> Enjoy!!

**Chapter 1: Advent Wyvern Sisters**

 

_"We will divide, we will remind you;_

_We will survive, we live inside you._

_We fade away._

_We blame._

_We hate._

_We criticize you!_

_We captivate the furious,_

_Deception our demise!"_

**Crawl Inside by Evans Blue**

_"Please! For the love of All Blue do not do this!"_

_"If you reveal yourselves…you'll be killed!"_

_"Big sis don't go!"_

_"This…this is suicidal! It will never work."_

_"We won't let you go, not when so many have already been lost!"_

_"Do you have a deathwi–"_

_"ENOUGH!"_

_The distressed cacophony of voices abruptly quieted, numerous bodies shifting at the authoritative command. Silence hung heavy, expectant, over a mass of a hundred or more people. They exchanged panicked glances between them before turning their gazes toward the one who'd spoken._

_The silence continued, hope waging war with desperation in the breast of all those present. It was a collective feeling among them as they watched the form of an old wizened woman waddle to the center of their gathering. Her pale eyes never once left the two cloaked females, the glint in them tempered with ancient knowledge and… reluctant understanding._

_"You know the risks of what you're doing?"_

_Twin nods._

_"This path that you've chosen to tread will not be easy. Are you prepared for it?"_

_The two shadows nodded._

_Pale eyes stared hard into the shadow of both hoods for a long time before slanting to the side, tired. Resigned. She would not be able to stop them. Not this time. Warm green eyes returned to the two figures standing before her, a quiet pain set deep within her irises. An inaudible sigh shook her frame and her hands tightened around the staff in front of her._

_Voice low so only they would hear, "Are you prepared for the consequences?"_

_A pause._

_The two shrouded Gifted shuddered at the quiet words, the quiet warning. Heads tilted slightly as if weighed down by an invisible force. For a moment, an instance the Old One began to hope, to pray, that sense had returned to the two who were hurtling headlong into something even she could not comprehend. But such a hopeful feeling died when the two stiffened and with hidden looks to the other squared slender shoulders and nodded._

_Pale eyes slowly closed and the Old One could swear she heard the sound of a gavel impacting on wood; the sound of finality._

_Their fates had been sealed._

_Voice raising so all could hear, "Very well. I give you my blessing; may you ride the winds swift and safely."_

_With this exclamation shocked uproars flooded the congregation. Shouts of denial, grief, and fear speared the air, all of which were pointed at the three quiet individuals. They understood the gravity of the decision, attempting to explain it to those who would not listen was futile. So they stood, silent, allowing friends, family, and companions to exhaust and express their trepidation. So that when the time came to leave they would be able to take the suffering, the fear away._

_Away with them._

_So it could not touch their precious people._

_The Old One looked up into the hoods of the two cloaked women. Meeting the luminescent eyes of both, eyes so very different yet very much the same as all those present. Only brighter, more draconic. They glowed as if back-lit by the sun._

_She leaned upon her staff, eyes still trained on the two females. Taking them in, drinking in their appearances like all those surrounding them. They too knew what was coming and were loathe to let it runaway from them. Like the elder among them they took in the two standing before them. Imprinting, searing, burning the sight of them into their brains; in memory where they would not be forgotten._

_Never forgotten._

_Quiet sobbing and soft whimpers permeated the gathering. Minds once filled with the stain of denial were slowly moving on to acceptance. For they had no choice. Ever so slowly heads grasped the underlining meaning behind such a dangerous conquest. With the emergence of realization came absolution and the crowd once full of fearful chattering calmed and stilled._

_Cheeks wet with tears dried, fists unclenched, and shoulders relaxed as one by one the Gifted settled into resignation. Though they were not happy with the event about to transpire they was aware, at least in part, of the necessity of the decision._

_A voice, clear and somewhat high in pitch, echoed around the vast clearing._

_"Don't worry about a thing! We'll be back before you guys know it, and you know what? I'll even bring back some souvenirs! One for each of you!"_

_The mass of people could not see it but a wide smile brightened the face underneath one of the hoods._

_The loud declaration had a ripple effect; it started out small, a slight giggle from a little girl. A chuckle from a man. But it soon snowballed into full-throated laughter, the kind that tipped burdens off hearts and comforted the soul. The laughter lasted awhile and even the Old One gave in, letting loose a few husky chortles._

_Then it quieted again, yet not with fear or desperation did the Gifted become silent but with benign expressions. They stared with soft gazes at the two who would sacrifice the very thing they cherished, all for the good of the whole. Them. The Gifted._

_They would sacrifice their own safety, their own identity to keep them safe._

_Such deep devotion only endeared them more to their hearts._

_Strengthened that bond made so long ago._

_But the time had come for a final farewell and…a departure. It was pure instinct that had the mass of people moving back, nostrils flaring, slit eyes widening in collective delight. Everyone watched, spellbound, as two bodies were suffused by an ethereal light. It seemed to pour out from their pores and the air around them rippled like a mirage._

_Then it happened._

_The glowing frames began to grow, to elongate. Morph into something else._

_A reptilian-like body. Powerful._

_Smooth scales. Beautiful._

_Claws, spines, and horns. Deadly._

_Fangs and a serpentine tail. Intimidating._

_Wings. Freedom._

_When the change was completed the congregation bellowed and crowed in triumph. They were always happy to witness one of their own transform, to take the sacred form of their saviors. The Four Great Sea Spirits._

_The answering roars that followed rocked the very island beneath their feet, however, no gasps or screams of fear sounded at this monstrous display of power. Instead excitement and joy beamed from every face and it only escalated when the two massive creatures extended their wings, readying them for flight._

_A surge._

_An updraft._

_A wing-beat._

_And then they were airborne. Rocketing into the sky vertically so rapidly the g-force would've knocked out any human. Coming out of the steep rise both dragons executed a smooth Chandelle, wings fully extended for maximum leverage._

_Those below continued to watch, silent, eyes trained on the mere dots that were their comrades-in-wings. With faces turned against the wind they heard the whisper._

_It caressed their ears with a final assurance. A final goodbye._

_'Forget terror, forget pain; none shall touch the fragile balance of your existence. Though we've all kept the secret of our birth, of our Saviors, of our culture; I am afraid we cannot stay idle any longer. Better to lose the anonymity of a few than to compromise the whole. We refuse to let it happen.'_

_'Let them think only two remain, let us become the protectors, the martyr's. Let the suspicion die with us. This cruel legacy steeped in blood and lies. Let it end and descend into Verdaron with us as we drag their kingdom of sin down.'_

* * *

**Present day, Sabaody Archipelago.**

"Please release me! _Someone! Anyone!_ "

Gasps and exclamations of horror rent the air; citizens clad in a variety of attire backed away from the huge man. He flailed and screamed in the middle of the street, eyes wide and crazed with desperation. He was so far gone in hysteria that he lashed out, his large fist snatching a nearby girl in some semblance of urgency. self-preservation, perhaps.

The terrified babbling of the surrounding populous grew louder at this show of aggression. Disgusted murmurs of "escaped slave" and "where is its owner?" as well as fear for the 'captive' were expressed by everyone watching. The girl held by the pirate captain struggled and cried against the grip around her neck to no avail.

"Please let me go!" But the cry went unheard by the frantic male. The citizens made no move to rescue the girl caught between the slaves giant fingers, they knew not to get involved. Especially if it involved a pirate captain.

They knew of only one person who bought pirate captains.

… _The Tenry_ _ūbito_ …

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

They had been moving at a reasonable pace towards Grove 31, yet were still quite a ways from the shopping district.

"Oi! I hear something!" howled one Strawhat Luffy from the seat of his bubble bike. His trademark grin stretching his face as it always was.

The remaining members of the Strawhat crew along with Hachi, Camie, and Pappug looked over to the ecstatic captain. The boy had been literally bouncing in his seat with leftover adrenaline from their race beneath the mangroves, hooting and hollering at _anything_ that caught his attention. This exuberance proved contagious leading to many smiles, giggles, and even a "YOHOHOHOOO!"

Chopper squeaked out another snicker before turning to Hachi, furry face curious, "So why are we headed for Grove 31?"

The octopus fishman slanted a look over his shoulder at the reindeer doctor, "I've been there before, it's a good place to shop for supplies."

Chopper accepted the answer with a smile, shifting a little on the giant bubble for a more comfortable position. He was delighted by the cool but gelatinous surface of the transparent globule. It was a nice balm against his fur when a hot wind blew past.

"Eh, I hear _something!_ Oooh! Sounds like a party! LET'S G-"

Pappug leaped from his seat on Camie's shoulder to land a resounding _whap_ on the rubber boys head. "There's no sound, idiot! None of us hear anything!"

Cue a moment of silence. Then the-

 _"_ …- _et me go!"_

Screaming.

That did _not_ sound like a party.

Eyes widening the ragtag group of pirates halted all forward motion, caught off guard. They could suddenly hear what Luffy had complained about for the last ten minutes. It wasn't fun and fanfare. It wasn't loud cheering either. It was the type of caterwauling that came from someone caught in the grip of fear and desperation.

"I… _I_ … _WANT TO GO HOME!_ "

The sobbing shriek jolted the little band back to their senses and they leaped into action immediately. Legs started to pump bike pegs and faces hardened, eyes steely with determination.

Having listened to his instincts Luffy had already moved on ahead, speeding straight for the outcropping of buildings not but twenty or so meters away. His youthful face taut with concern and anticipation. He had a bad feeling in his gut. And usually his stomach was happy. Now it felt like it was flopping over and over making him slightly uncomfortable.

Luffy did not like the sensation.

Luffy disliked it even more when someone was in trouble. When they were _crying._

He'd just have to make it better then.

Hachi had to skid to a stop or else risk running Luffy over who had abruptly stopped in the middle of the marketplace. The disturbance had only grown steadily louder as they approached. And if it was even possible more frenzied. Hachi and company leaned forward to see what had the agitated captain so engrossed. Further up the street loitered a mob of people garbed in the robes of Sabaody Archipelago; citizens. They were wailing and pointing at something further up the road.

The scent of fear and disgust was so strong it was nearly palpable.

Chopper and Camie gasped when a large man decked out in a brown overcoat and tan pants came into view. He looked insane, standing there with his wits nowhere in sight. The man moved erratically, head whipping side to side, mouth opening to let loose a loud bellow of despair. In one hand he held a blonde woman by the neck. But that wasn't what was shocking; it was the strange metal ring attached to the neck of the hysterical individual.

Camie's eyes widened in recognition at the sight before she hid her face in her hands. She didn't want to watch.

"An Axe! A saw! I'm _begging_ you! Just get _this neck ring off me!_ "

None of the citizens moved from their places. The stillness, or maybe the lack of assistance, seemed to push the struggling man over the edge. With a strangled shout he threw down his captive, tears of frustration pricking the corners of his eyes.

Luffy stared, black eyes focused, tinged with a hint of something mature not otherwise seen when he was smiling. At another shouted cry for help he made to walk forward _–_

"Don't get involved."

The warning came from a subdued Hachi who continued, "He's probably a pirate who got caught by slavers and was sold."

"Sold you say?" asked "Dead Bones" Brook, empty eye sockets somehow conveying anxious surprise. The three Strawhat pirates watched the commotion, all of one mind.

_Slaves? Slavery? No freedom._

That one thought had them all consciously recoiling. They couldn't even imagine what the pirate in front of them had gone through. Just thinking about it was _haunting._

Beside Hachi Luffy swallowed, eyes intent, stomach strangely hollow. He wanted to help, _needed_ to help the poor man. _Slave._ His jaw clenched at that, a temper rousing from inside him like a slumbering giant. He couldn't just stand by and let that man hurt like that. Hachi's voice slapped him back to the present.

"…wner most likely took him out for a walk and he made a run for it."

The Fishman stopped talking after that, eyes shut tightly, as if in pain. The voice that came from him was low and intense, rough with grief.

" _Even though there is absolutely no hope for escape!_ "

This statement brought forth shock and identical expressions of confused distress. Hachi's eyes lowered to the ground shoulders slumped; he could not meet the gaze of any of his friends. The reality of the island they had derived such happiness from was ugly and terrible and they were now facing it. There were no words of consolation for what they were witnessing.

The background noise of screaming became louder, more acute, more terrified. It drew the Strawhats from their reluctant realizations and they looked up. All of the people crowded around the pirate were suddenly running away. Each one holding the same expression - pale, wide-eyed, and sweaty with fear.

Then they heard it.

_Rk-ting._

_Rk-ting._

_Rk-ting._

"W-what's that sound?" Chopper dared to question, little furry body trembling. That foreboding ticking sound echoed and laughed in his sensitive ears; his instincts urged him to run. Run from danger.

No one answered him.

The enslaved pirate grew more crazed when he heard the noise, his fingers biting and ripping at the collar wrapped around his neck. Eyes bulging in their sockets, mouth roaring in terrorized dismay. " _Damn!_ Damn it all to _hell!_ This damned ring! Get it off! _Someone!_ PLEASE!"

_Rk-ting._

_Rk-ting._

_Rk-ting._

Luffy's body froze at the ominous sound, face slack with shell-shock. He couldn't move. He _had_ to move but his body wouldn't listen. It was rooted to the spot. He reached an arm out, for what he didn't know, to help possibly, to save…—

A sudden blast of wind had the band of pirates throwing up their arms to shield themselves. A strange rustling like the flapping wings of a bird accompanied the torrent of air from behind them.

A shadow passed over, shade in place of sunlight for a split second. Grimacing from under the protection of his forearms Luffy squeezed open an eye and stiffened.

Green. Green fabric.

Teal. Bright _glowing_ teal.

Like emerald wraiths they tore down the street, two bodies enfolded within the depths of rich forest cloaks. They moved in complete synchronization with each other, stride for stride until they came abreast with their target.

The slave. The pirate.

It happened like quicksilver. To the common folk it appeared as a blur of motion, too fast for their untrained eyes. But Luffy and his friends saw the two strangers lunge out of their sprint at the shrieking man. Shocked eyes watching, spellbound, as the two strangers used each other as springboards to rocket themselves into opposite directions.

The one on the right snapped out an arm, slender fingers grabbing hold of the metal collar. The stranger used that hold to then swing itself around so its torso was parallel with the enslaved pirate.

Everyone watched raptly as the unknown person seemed to pull back its arm, the cloak tenting at the elbow for a moment before shooting forward. Gasps of disbelief exploded from their throats when with the barest touch of two fingers (a sharp jab) the ticking time bomb on the slave collar _deactivated._

The ringing stopped.

" _Hold still._ " It was a whispered directive. A calm command from behind the pirates head; the man quieting, expression slack-jawed and sallow. Mere seconds later an odd somewhat _unsettling_ sound of sizzling met everyone's ears. Then…

_**Clang!** _

The slave collar fell, half melted, to the ground.

Melted?

Numerous wide eyes rose to land on the second cloaked figure still perched on the back of the pirate. Now _they_ were slack-jawed.

"T-the slave! It's free!"

The citizens of Sabaody Archipelago reeled back in horror, those who had stopped to watch making a hasty retreat, others too caught up in the show to act on their fright. Back down the street Luffy and company stared, whether in awe or something else was to be decided. The rubber captain's arm, though, was still outstretched. Still reaching in an effort to help; a testimony to just how fast everything had happened.

It hadn't even been a _minute_ between catching a glimpse of starlight eyes and the collar hitting the dusty ground. This fact sank into minds numbed over in shock and adrenaline. It sank slowly but surely, imprinting the gravity of the sheer _speed_ they had just witnessed and of skills they could not name.

They had no words to describe what had taken place seconds ago. No words. None.

Just a jab and a sizzle.

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

Skulley J. Liberty idly leaped down from the shoulder of the now free slave. Beneath the shadows of her hood beamed a wide smile and glittering brown eyes that strangely glowed teal near the pupil. With a bit of a skip to her gait she walked over to her partner-in-crime. The shrouded form of her best friend was slightly slouched inward, shoulders deceptively relaxed. But she knew better. Under the cloth of that cloak lurked something dangerous. And only she really knew just _how_ dangerous.

"So…what'd you use _this_ time?" The tone was light, questioning, with the distinctive edge of annoyed hostility. Underneath all the agitated menace, however, Liberty could sense the hint of genuine curiosity. No one could read Sonneillon B. Jillian like she could and she prided herself in that fact. Anyone else would likely get a claw through the chest or their guts strewn across the floor if they tried.

"Just a dose of Valerian."

"Oh really?"

Cue heavy sarcasm followed by a slight snicker.

"Yup, really."

An eyebrow twitched, and Jillian's voice rung low with warning, " _Lib_ …"

But instead of a cowed response, raucous laughter belted out from under Lib's hood. So much so that she had to bend over and grasp her knees to keep from falling over in her mirth. Glancing up in-between explosive sniggers made her only laugh all the harder; eyes a mixture of blue-gray and teal glared down at her, the irritated flicker in them growing stronger.

It was fun to bug Jill.

 _One_ … _Two_ … _Three_ … _Four_ … _Fiv_ -

" _Would_ you just _tell_ me already! Stop being annoying!" hissed Jillian, voice tight with frustration. Clawed fingers fanned out repeatedly at her side, an action Lib did not fail to catch.

It was a quirk of hers that bespoke of approaching temper. She only did the motion if something was pushing her too close to snapping. Lib frowned at this bit of information; nothing that had happened in the last two hours had pissed off Jill enough to 'finger-fan'.

In an effort to stanch the mounting agitation in her friend Lib executed what she liked to call "Interference". It was a tact borne from many bad calls, disasters, dead people, and a sore Lib. Never let it be said that Skulley J. Liberty _enjoyed_ having to deal with an enraged blacked out Jill. It wasn't fun and the mess left behind was usually an _absolute bitch_ to deal with. Ugh.

So she ran Interference. Hand disappearing within the folds of her cloak she grasped an empty needle from her chemical belt and flung it hard at Jillian. The effect was instantaneous.

Jillian dropped into a crouch her hand whipping out to catch the thin hollow needle aimed for her throat. Lips curled in a nasty smirk she brought her hand down and took a delicate sniff at the weapon. A moment later she rose to her feet, snorting, "Hydrofluoric acid."

"Yup."

"Hn. Clever. But now what do we do with tall, dark, and sedated?" Jillian stared up into the face of the pirate they had saved from head implosion. He was out cold from the dose of Valerian running around in his system and probably wouldn't wake for a couple of hours.

Jillian sighed softly in annoyance. That meant they would have to relocate him. Probably over to the Lawless groves where he could be hidden. It was a tireless business rescuing slaves. But she did derive pleasure from all the outraged 'owners'. Their reactions really were hilarious.

In somewhat of a good mood she made to turn to Liberty but found she was conspicuously absent. A cursory glance at her environment saw her friend surrounded by what looked to be a pirate crew. Ah. Her friend _loved_ pirates.

Ignoring all the people ogling her from the sidelines, they couldn't see her anyway, she stalked over to the group clustered around her best friend.

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

Jill appeared to be back to half-way sane.

Which was good. Very good.

She could relax, take in the sights, meet new people.

Like the ones currently boring holes in her and Jillian's cloaks. They looked like interesting people and she liked meeting interesting people. Sparing her friend a glance she skipped over to the group who surprisingly didn't back away from her. Hmm. Inhaling through her nose she took in their scents. It was an instinctive action. Natural.

The first and strongest scent was meat. Food.

_Weird._

It was associated with the fellow in rolled up jeans, navy blue sleeveless shirt, and a strawhat. He was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen with a lanky figure. Black hair, dark eyes. And he was as frisky as a puppy in his excitement. Liberty smiled at him as she approached by which he gave an answering grin so wide it stretched his cheekbones.

Lib had a feeling she would like him.

The next three scents were quite telling in the fact that they weren't human. While they were presently disguised as human folk her nose didn't lie. They were fishman, well except the female she was a mermaid.

The last two had her eyebrows climbing into her hairline. One scent didn't know whether to be human or animal while the other wasn't _even alive._

_Say what?_

"Hi!"

Upon entering hearing range Lib was met with a shockingly tight bear hug and an explosive voice screaming in her ear. "SO COOL! HEY, GREEN LADY HOW DID YOU DO THAT! WHAT DID YOU DO? WHOSE YOUR FRIEND? YOU SHOULD JOIN MY CREW!"

The onslaught of blaring questions would've intimidated anyone else whereas it only made Liberty grin cheerfully. The crushing bear hug didn't bother her either; she gave the same type to Jillian all the time, despite her displeasure. She _hated_ hugs.

Laughingly Lib answered, "By being awesome. Injected a sedative into his bloodstream. Sonneillon B. Jillian. And I'll think about it."

Hearing a quick intake of breath, a gasp, Lib leaned on the boy's shoulder to look over him. He was slightly taller than her after all. The mermaid in disguise along with the…really, really cute…reindeer were giggling at them. Wow, the reindeer was really _adorable_.

The blue boy suddenly hopped back, giant grin splitting his face, "Hey! You never told me your name! I'm Monkey D. Luffy!

Glossing over the fact that he never gave her _the chance_ to speak her name she simply said, "Skulley J. Liberty!"

This sent Lib hurtling through a round of introductions that had her head whirling but no less happy.

"Hello, my name is Hachi and this is Camie and Pappug. It's nice to meet you." The greeting was mirrored by both mermaid and…starfish.

The last individual was rather…odd. A _skeleton_. A walking, talking, _gentlemen_ skeleton to be exact. "What a mysterious woman! My name is Brook. May I see your panties?" Or maybe not.

Lib blinked owlishly at that, not sure whether to take him seriously or not. Before she could take any feminine action, though, the little (cute!) reindeer flew at the skeleton screeching 'sexual harassing pile of bones' while mauling him with hooves repeatedly.

It was inferred that such a show of violence to ones crewmate was probably normal among the crew as no one moved to pull the little guy away. Rather they stood there in a half circle _laughing_. She was beginning to really like this crew.

It wasn't long before they were happily conversing among each other. Trading information, telling short stories. Liberty learned that blue boy, Luffy, was the captain of a famous rookie crew, the Strawhats, and that there was six other members. She also learned that their ship was named the Thousand Sunny, Sanji was a flirt, Zoro liked to nap a lot, Franky was a cyborg, and their navigator was obsessed with money.

Luffy was quite the character. Definitely.

But there was something else…

Something special about him. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

A sudden snort from behind her had her new friends going quiet.

_Ah, there she is._

Without missing a beat, "Everyone! This is my friend Jill. Jill this is…"

And thus begins her _sacred_ duty of humanizing Sonneillon B. Jillian. She was a _horrible_ people person. She only hoped Jill wouldn't explode while meeting someone as loud and touchy as Monkey D. Luffy.

"WOW! YOU'RE SO COOL! HOW'D YOU MOVE SO FAST? CAN I SEE YOUR EYES! HOW DID YOU STOP THE COLLAR?"

_Oh Spirits! Interference!_

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

**Grove 31, somewhere.**

Frightened whispers filled the air as one by one citizens of every shape and size fell to their knees in subservience. They dared not raise their gaze to those who passed for it meant certain death. They dared not gaze at the Celestial Dragons.

The World Nobles were out for their weekly stroll among the _common people_. And Grove 31 had been the lucky number picked for said outing. Only this time they were not out for recreational exercise. No, they were looking for a possession. A possession that had run off.

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

"Aren't you _cute!_ "

Liberty had Chopper bear-hugged to her chest, squealing in happiness. _He was just sooo damn cute!_ Beside her Jillian shook her head thoroughly exasperated. Around them the Strawhats guffawed uproariously at their doctor who spazzed from all the attention.

"Aw-shucks don't say that. _Don't touch me!_ I'm not cute at all. _Put me down bastard!_ " The supposedly schizophrenic reindeer only caused more tumultuous laughter to break out. Even Jillian was so inclined to laugh along with everyone. It was just _that_ funny.

Until Hachi caught sight of people falling to their knees, heads bowed.

Body tensing, fear raising he grabbed Camie and Pappug before dropping to his knees. "Everyone get down! Get down like all the others! Hurry!"

The Strawhats stared at Hachi before looking around, taking note that everyone left in the area really was kneeling. Luffy scratched at his head in confusion, "Oi, why are you on the ground? Nami always yells at us _–_ "

"Now! Mugiwara!"

Luffy's eyes widened at the stark _fear_ audible in Hachi's rushed demand. Slowly, gaze never leaving his friend he sat on the ground, mind for once noticing the fine trembling wracking Camie's slender form. That uncomfortable flopping motion suddenly began again in his stomach; something bad was coming.

"You four! Get down!" Hachi barked at the people still standing. Chopper and Brook yelped before diving for the ground behind Luffy. But Liberty and Jillian stayed upright, unmoving. Long dark cloaks completely enshrouding all but the outline of their bodies; it gave them the appearance of mossy statues.

Liberty and Jillian stood motionless under the fabric of their cloaks, waiting. They had heard _them_ coming for a while, yet had said nothing. They could also sense the tension hanging rank in the air like a rotten rabbit on the road. Disgusting.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet Lib abruptly pivoted, an unseen mischievous grin curling her lips as she walked back to the sedated form of the freed slave. The kneeling citizens watched her in muted horror.

She wasn't _bowing_.

 _They_ weren't bowing.

Jillian leaned over her and Liberty's new friends, enough so that the shadow obscuring her face dissipated. Piercing blue-teal eyes set in a pale oval face stared at them, the slit gaze both enthralling and disturbing in its intensity. What was more amazing was the shock of luminous teal hair growing from her head. It slipped free of the hood to hang around her neck before she pushed it back beneath her hood.

That was not normal hair…

Jillian snorted privately to herself. It never got old; revealing what she looked like under the cloak. Human reactions were entertaining and she didn't mind a bit of an ego boost here and there. She deserved it with all the hell she put herself through.

"Meh!"

Lib was calling which meant _they_ were nearly upon them. With that thought going through her head came the flood of malicious anticipation. It had, after all, been a long time since they had shown their faces in Sabaody Archipelago.

Twisting on her toes Jillian prowled back over to her partner. Over her shoulder, "No need to fear merfolk. Just sit back and watch the show."

Luffy and company stared, eyes blinking with confusion, after the form of Sonneillon B. Jillian. How had she known? Could it have something to do with the fact that she - they - weren't human. Humans did not have slit pupils, not unless they had a devil fruit.

And from earlier conversation they had learned that no such fruits had been eaten.

So what were they?

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

"You just _had_ to show off didn't you!" Skulley J. Liberty huffed, hip cocked out and stance filled with annoyance. The hood covering her friends face turned in her direction, an audible scowl in the voice, "Hey, back off Miss-he's-so- _adorable_. If I want to strip and give a show I'll strip and give a show! Hmph."

"Y-you are so impossible! Uh! And quit it with all the innuendo's you dirty-minded lizard!"

"Oh really! I'm the one with the dirty mind? Ha! Yeah right! Whose the one who made that comment about 'flying naked' over West Blue! Who?"

"What? I didn't say that! You did!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"Bullshit."

"Hog-sloth!"

"What does that even _mea–_ "

" _Who_ is making that _infernal_ racket? I demand to know at once!"

Two pairs of teal eyes locked, a sinister twinkling flaring at the haughty feminine voice.

 _Saint Shalulia officially onto the scene,_ thought Liberty with a belligerent smile. The voice of the _Celestial Dragon_ had been somewhat distant meaning they hadn't seen their runaway _possession_ yet. Oh but when they did. That's when the fun started.

Jillian smirked, her fangs peeking through.

A pause.

Silence.

A gasp.

Then, "Ah, there it is father. It must've regained some sense, waiting for us to come retrieve it."

The two Gifted had to repress snickers. The World Nobles hadn't even realized it yet. How pathetic.

"See to it that it is disciplined immediately. If you had trained it better this wouldn't have happened," the elder World Noble, Saint Roswald said with a disdainful sniff. Both Gifted felt their eyes narrow at the statement. It was absolutely _dripping_ with pompous arrogance. It never failed to utterly repulse them whenever they heard one of _them_ speak. They never had anything good to say but for themselves. It made Lib want to bite off her own ears and left Jill itching to kill something.

"Slave, come to your mistress," ordered the sole female Celestial Dragon.

There was no movement from the pirate captain and the two cloaked figures silently relished in the defiance. Even if the man was unconscious and unknowing of his offense. Anything that pissed off the ugly bulbous figureheads of Sabaody Archipelago was well liked by Jillian and Liberty.

"Slave! Did you not hear your master? I could have you whipped for such impu _–_ …What happened to your collar!"

 _Now_ they see it. Blind idiots.

_Show time!_

With matching sadistic grins the two Gifted sauntered out on either side of the slouched over man, hooded faces staring straight at the two _saints_. They had no idea there was anyone hiding behind the large pirate and were quite startled by their sudden appearance.

Which means they got quite angry too. There were two common people _standing_ after all. Oh the _horror_.

"W-what? _How dare you!_ We are the Celestial Dragons! Bow before us _at once!_ "

Quiet gasps issued from the kneeling citizens at the sheer _audacity_ of the cloaked beings. Both seemed to ignore the command, their bodies not folding or conforming, two strangers standing strong and defiant. Their silent message understood by all: _We will not bow._

"Well, hello to you too. _Assholes._ Quite the welcome you got going here. I'm rather surprised, I mean who better to give such a warm salutation then the Celestial Shitbags." Liberty nearly burst out laughing at those cool, sardonic words. Jillian was laying it on _thick_. Which was understandable. Her hatred for the Celestial Dragons knew no bounds.

It was hilarious to watch Shalulia blow up like an overripe tomato. Roswald was just icing on the cake. "You dare insult a World Noble! What _impudence!_ " Roswald seethed.

"Oh, we _so_ dare. It's really a hobby actually," Liberty said with a razor-blade smile, voice a mocking rendition of happy conversation. The giddy tone with its matching snide grin infuriated the two highborn, one of which had been pushed over the edge. Sneering and hateful Shalulia went to pull out her firearm.

"You…you dare speak back to us!? We are the Tenryūbito— We _own_ the lives of you _filthy_ commoners!" An ugly snarl contorted Shalulia's face as she leveled the gun at the two shadowed women. For they were too slender to be anything else. They dared defy _her_. They dared defy _her father!_

They were surprised yet again by the lack of reaction. The utter lack of fright or groveling that should have happened by now was absent. Void. Nonexistent. Roswald glared at the obstinate swine hidden beneath dark green mantles. They were still, completely unafraid it seemed. Like the gun, like _death_ , did not scare them. He frowned at this; something niggled in the back of his mind, something familiar. He could see _nothing_ of the forms hidden by the heavy fabric of the veils. Idly, he began to wonder what sort of pathetic creatures would willingly throw their lives away - what did they look like? It was a small curiosity compared with the size of his outrage but he saw fit to indulge in it before they died.

"Before my daughter kills you for your blasphemous transgressions I would see your faces."

Nothing happened. Nothing. No movement.

Except a laugh.

A strangled, horribly repressed cackle that sounded more along the lines of a strange guttural snort. It was followed closely by a quiet snide snicker. "I'm actually quite shocked. Wow, I didn't know you knew the meaning of the words 'blasphemous' or 'transgression'. They must be teaching you something other than how to be an arrogant ass-licker. Keep it u—"

_**Bang!** _

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

Liberty and Jillian knew the exact moment the bullet left the barrel; they could smell the build up of lactic acid in the arm muscles leading to the pulled trigger, could hear the heartbeat quicken in anticipation for the kill. It was all too easy for them (with their keen senses) to deduce the time needed to safely dodge and relocate. A single side-step away.

They were conscious of their friends, the Strawhats, behind them watching intently. They had probably seen them move rather than the blur civilians were privy to. Or in other cases, shitbags.

" _Hey!_ That was really, really rude! Asking us something and not even giving us time to answer! Sheesh, where are your manners?" Questioned Liberty, hooded face tilted back in derision, everyone getting the sense that she was looking down her nose at them. The World Nobles.

"How! How did you do that? How did you disappear?" shouted Shalulia angrily. She glared at them with furious eyes, smoking gun clenched between her shaking fingers. She had been so sure one of them would be shot dead but there they were both still standing. Still _breathing_. She wanted them _dead_. She wanted them dead _now!_

"Why don't you just die already!"

Jillian stepped forward at that statement, knowing the gun was useless. It was a one hit wonder as all guns were. "Why don't _you?_ " Jillian murmured softly, the edge of a growl roughening her voice into something inhuman. Dangerous.

Roswald's eyes widened at the sound. It wasn't the type of growl a human would make when angry or agitated, no, this had sounded more feral. More bestial. A distant memory, brought forth by that voice, her voice, assaulted him without warning.

A memory of ancient tales.

Of twenty kings.

Of sea spirits.

Of human-dragon hybrids.

_The Gifted._

Saint Roswald's eyes bulged behind his glasses. That familiarity nagging at him again. It was _them!_ They had returned! The wretched creatures his ancient ancestors had tried to vanquish. The Gifted as they were called. He remembered his father and his grandfather telling stories about them. How they had stolen the immortality of their forefathers. It was _unforgivable!_

Voice lashing out thunderously, " _YOU!_ " His enraged shout halted the back-in-forth pissing contest between the Gifted and his daughter. Everyone stopped to stare at him, he _was_ breathing rather heavily.

"Us." Lib and Jill retorted in unison, slow devilish smiles curling their lips. Finally. "So…you finally remember. After all this time we were getting a little worried." Jillian relaxed a little under her cloak, a mocking pretense of relief.

" _You wretched bags of sin!_ Show me your faces! I _DEMAND_ IT!" Roswald roared, something inside him snapping. His hands fluttering as he whipped out his gun and trained it on the closest target. Neither cloaked figures moved at the threat. Clenching his teeth furiously he pulled the trigger.

But the target was gone.

He had blinked and they were gone.

Gone. Vanished. Without a trace.

His anger surged into near mindless rage. Where had they-

"Oi! Bastard! Look _up!_ " As the irritating shrill tone hit his ears, those gathered for the stand-off did just that; they looked up. The marketplace quickly descended into an uproar.

There hovering in the air forty or so feet above them, lazily flapping huge bat-like wings were the strangers; Jillian and Liberty. Said wings did not sprout from their backs, instead they appeared rather wyvern-ish with their arms partially transformed as the wings. Even more surprising was the unconscious slave they held between them.

No one had seen them whisk the pirate away. Not even Luffy and his friends.

With a Cheshire cat grin Liberty threw back her head and laughed, Jillian smirking scornfully by her side; wind from the beating of their powerful wings ripped the hoods of their cloaks back; they made no motion to stop the unveiling. Let the Celestial Shitbags look all they want now. Even from such a height the intensity of their coloring could be seen. Bright, bioluminescent teal hair was hard to miss.

Glowing slit eyes glared down at the two World Nobles. Projecting her voice, Jillian uttered two words. Two simple words that spoke a thousand to those who knew their true meaning. " _Remember us_."

Remember the Gifted.

With a farewell grin to the Strawhats the two Gifted flew away leaving awed silence and two very humiliated, very angry Celestial Shitbags. One of which _remembered._

**_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_ **

**Marine Headquarters, Grove 60.**

Monkey D. Garp sat languidly back in his chair, mouth set in a bored frown. All the paperwork that had hit his desk that morning were signed and ready to go. He _hated_ office work. Hated. It. Period. He'd much rather be training new recruits; there's nothing like a good dropkick to the ass to jump-start a man's career as a marine.

Garp sighed into the silence. Oh how he wished something would happ—

A sudden door slamming open accompanied by a shouted, " _Vice Admiral Garp! Vice Admiral Garp_!" had the man shooting up from his seat. The young marine who'd barged into his office - _hadn't even knocked, how rude! Kids these days! -_ was panting and sweating, face red and pinched from adrenaline. Garp stared at the private while silently thanking his lucky stars that _something_ had finally happened. _Goodbye, boredom!_

"Well! What is it already?" Garp mentally chortled when his booming voice sent the poor man into near hysterics. Gasping, "T-they…they're back! He sa-said they're…back!"

Garp felt the beginnings of unease stir in his gut. And it wasn't hunger. What was going on? Who were _they?_ Were they under attack? "Calm down private! Tell me what's happening?"

That seemed to shake the marine from his mini-freakout. Swallowing, the nameless man straightened while inhaling deeply several times. He wiped the nervous layer of sweat from his forehead before replying, "Sir! Around 1335 hours we received an urgent call from Mariejois! Saint Roswald reported that he and his daughter, Saint Shalulia, had an encounter with the Gifted! They are requesting an S.A. Alert immediately."

Garp slowly sat back down, the unease in his stomach roiling full throttle. So their rotation had finally brought them back to Sabaody Archipelago. After one-hundred-forty-three years of relative silence they'd returned to wreak havoc. He'd only heard the stories of their last visit; two dead Admirals and a mutilated Celestial Dragon. The stories weren't pretty.

And with so many big-shot pirate crews, the Supernova's, around things were about to get heated. The request for an S.A. Alert was really the _worst_ course of action in this situation too. A better decision would be to keep news of the Gifted _away_ from lawless ears. Obeying Saint Roswald's request would only inform all the scoundrels in the area that a legend older than the Pirate King wasn't a myth.

Garp slumped back in his chair, at an impasse. He ignored the private still standing at attention in front of his desk by way of opening a side drawer. He rooted around for a second before pulling out an old yellowing piece of paper: a bounty poster. He set it down with a hefty sigh. It was a strange bounty poster in that there wasn't a picture of just one person. It was controversy among the World Government whether or not they could be considered real ' _people_ ' at all. For there was no one _alive_ who'd seen them human.

Wait. Garp frowned in confusion. If Saint Roswald and his daughter had encountered the Gifted wouldn't they be dead? Over the centuries the stories passed down the ranks of the marines always involved the death of Celestial Dragons at the hands of the Gifted. Yet the two saints were alive. Garp rubbed at his face, suddenly tired, suddenly wishing he was bored again. This was too much deep thinking. He wanted a nap.

Sighing, he stared down at the two photographed dragons. One had its head lowered fanged jaws spewing wicked flame over the deck of a marine vessel. The second had its wings fully outstretched, head thrown back in a roar. The picture showed its deadly claws embedded into the hull of the ship.

Waving a dismissal at the private Garp continued to stare at the bounty poster, face set in grim lines.

"What are you two up to, Wyvern Sisters?"


	3. Wyvern Sisters Unveiled!

 

_"Enlighten me, reveal my fate,_

_Just cut these strings that hold me safe._

_I chase the sun,_

_It chases me!_

_I follow you,_

_You follow me!"_

**Follow by Breaking Benjamin.**

A new day on Sabaody Archipelago dawned bright and sunny. It was a day like any other, filled with rich gossip, wares being sold, and the usual clamor from both citizens and pirates alike. Everyone went about their business albeit noisily.

A loud buzzing  _static_  pierced the din.

It was an insistent all consuming sound that had everyone pausing. _Everywhere._ Strangely enough the sound did not stem from something supernatural; Den Den Mushi's from all over the island were wide awake with eyes open and mouths blaring.

And just like that the general cacophony turned to a literal snake pit of chaos and confusion. People shouted and yelped whilst grabbing their personal Transponder Snails, the calmer sort sat back listening and watching the surrounding uproar, while others glared and frowned at the interruption.

Fingers pushed and jabbed 'Stop' buttons in an attempt to quiet the disturbing high pitched drone. Nothing seemed to work.

Fuzzy static suddenly became louder, and more acute before it cut off.

…

" _This is an urgent broadcast from Marine Headquarters, Grove 60! Repeat! This is an urgent broadcast from Marine Headquarters, Grove 60! The Wyvern Sisters have been sighted within Sabaody Archipelago! Possessions are recommended to be kept indoors at all times. Do not approach and provoke. Repeat! Do not approach and provoke_ …"

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Basil Hawkins, the "Magician" sat quietly in a little out-of-the-way restaurant. He idly took in his crews chatter with calm red eyes, his hands busy shuffling his tarot deck skillfully. His men were conversing about the other ten Supernova's lurking somewhere on the island; their strengths and weaknesses, and the rumors circulating around them.

 _Shuzzzzz_ …

The Hawkins Pirates tensed at the intrusive buzz, and as one all turned to stare at the still form of their captain. Basil Hawkins stopped shuffling slowly, set his deck down, and reached into his pants pocket. His hand revealed a small compact Transponder Snail with its mouth open.

They all stared, expectantly, at the snail. It wasn't the only Den Den Mushi making the odd noise. With a simple cursory glance it was obvious that others were having the same experience.

Then it stopped, followed by, " _This is an urgent broadcast from Marine Headquarters, Grove 60! Repeat! This is an_ …"

Brows furrowing the "Magician" frowned down at the snail. He'd heard the name  _Wyvern Sisters_ before but it was from an old wives tale, a mere child's fantasy. Nearly every pirate out there knew the legend but disregarded it; a deceptive fluke cast by the World Government to scare rogues away from the sea. For who would believe a truth depicting two  _dragons_  flying around for  _hundreds of years_ causing chaos.

Though would it be prudent to believe the World Government would create a false bounty for something that  _wasn't_  attacking them. Surely the world would be a lot more…informed of such beasts if they really were flying around. Surely.

Unless they covered it up.

Basil Hawkins ignored the new conversation brought on by the broadcast in favor of picking up his deck. He shuffled as he had before. A moment later he set it down picking three cards off the top as he did so. Gingerly he placed them face-up on the table.

_The Knave of Holy Water._

_Ten of Stakes._

_The Tower._

Thoughtful red eyes beheld the three cards, reading their meanings silently. The "Magician" blinked, eyes widening subtly. If the tarot deck was correct then the broadcast and everything in it…was true.

… _Something that is alluring and magically influential but that may not be what he, she, or it seems_ …

… _A resurrection of what is forgotten or in the past_ …

… _The shattering of illusion, a rude awakening, or a flash of insight that is enlightening_ …

The barest hint of an intrigued smile touched Basil Hawkins face. It went unseen by his crew.

_It seems matters are about to get interesting soon._

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

_"_ … _broadcast from Marine Headquarters, Grove 60! The Wyvern Sisters have been sighted within Sabaody Archipelago! Possessions are recommended to be kept ind_ … _"_

A group of men in white baggy boiler suits listened raptly, eyes trained on the form of a yellow Den Den Mushi. It was impossible to see their expressions as they were covered by their hats. That was the one distinguishing factor among the Heart Pirates. Hats.

The man who sat dead center in this congregation of white was quite colorful. The only article of white on him being the furry spotted hat sitting atop his head. Like his crew the hat hid his expression, throwing shadows on a pair of cold grey eyes.

Trafalgar Law, the "Surgeon of Death" reclined comfortably on a wooden crate, face cool and composed, lips pulled in that trademark smile he was so well known for. He too listened to the broadcast. How could he not when it was playing from every transponder snail in the vicinity. How could he  _not_  when his interest was irrevocably aroused. Of course he'd heard the stories, and he wondered and speculated like everyone else at such fantasy.

Grey eyes darkened then, a sinister air curling that smile into something  _dangerous._ Law leaned forward, idly steepling his fingers, mind working over the message like a well oiled machine. If these  _Wyvern Sisters_ were in fact real, well, he'd just have to make sure they  _encountered_  each other.

For who could resist the chance to approach such  _infamous_  beasts.  _Dragons to be precise._

At that thought Law's smirk widened. And behind smoky grey eyes gleamed something dark, something bloodcurdling. That devious mind of his hidden under layers of artifice continued to work, plotting, planning.

Sabaody Archipelago was big, but not so big as to  _hide_  the massive bodies of two dragons. Not from  _him_. A sudden epiphany had his smirk falling off his face, a frown taking up residence. If there  _were_  two dragons flying around wouldn't there be news of it, news of their whereabouts? The people here were the rich of the rich; weak and selfish they cared only for their own lives. Self-important nobles they were, so where was all the gossip. Where was all the mass panic. Oh, he sensed fear but it wasn't the type of fear following a brush with death or a meeting with the creatures. It was fear garnered by the broadcast. By the unknown.

Law stared, gaze distant and contemplative. The idea that the Wyvern Sisters might possess an  _alternate form_  was intriguing.  _Humans_ , possibly. A bemused chuckle slipped past his lips, his eyes slanting to take in his crew who were too busy discussing the transmission to notice his perusal.

Casually, the "Surgeon of Death" leaned back posture relaxed, confident. The smile was creeping back, leaking into his features slowly; a disturbingly smooth facade concealing a sleeping giant.

If they did possess the ability to turn human, than the better for him, he always loved a challenge.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

It was a dark place, smelling of stale alcohol and alive with the  _chinking_  of glasses. As long as the grog was close in-hand everyone was content. At least until a fight broke out over something or other. They were pirates after all. Who else would be sitting in a muggy dim bar deep in the lawless groves? All in all there were three crews present throwing back mugs of beer, auras of fragile tolerance with each other hanging tense in the air.

One crew in particular exuded more of an agitated menace than a sense of tolerance for the others. It gave the impression of a tightly coiled wire, wrought with tension, just waiting,  _waiting_  for something to come, upset its balance, and  _snap!_

This crew just so happened to be the Kid Pirates. Respectively headed by Eustass "Captain" Kid. Bounty of 315,000,000 beli and top Supernova because of it. Said red head was currently glaring into his mug of grog, dark red eyes narrowed in growing irritation.

It was too quiet.

Too quiet for Kid.

Lips painted a dark purple curled into a snarl. A moment later a pale skinned hand slid to a slim bandolier holding a dagger and a flintlock gun. The hand pulled the dagger from its sheathe, and those predatory red eyes began scouring for a target. Or a victim.

Those same eyes stopped on the form of a fellow Supernova.  _Scratchmen Apoo, eh._

Cruel lips stretched into a grin of maniacal anticipation. It was a wide vicious thing that had the rest of the Kid Pirates staring. Then they too began grinning. Oh yes, bloodshed, _fun_ , was fast incoming.

 _ **Shuzzzzz**_ …

The abrupt entrance of sharp distorted sound came like a spear strike. Fast and almost deteriorating. It was successful in derailing the murderous thoughts of Eustass Kid. It was also successful in wrenching everyone's attention to their Den Den Mushi's.

With a confused snarl Kid rounded on his coat. Hands ripped open a pocket before retreating, snail in hand. It was hacking out that _irritating_ noise which was giving him a goddamn headache. Kid hated,  _absolutely hated_ headaches. The fact that every other snail nearby was making the same awful racket was only oil to the fire of his anger. And Kid found that his fuse was rather short as of late.

_Too many fucking people staring!_

So far no one had died yet from this mistake, but whether that was a good thing or not was unknown. In a foul mood Kid was about to slam the loud annoying thing into the table when it quieted. Then there was a voice.

 _"_ … _Sisters have been sighted within Sabaody Archipelago! Possessions are recommended to be kept indoors at all times. Do not approach_ … _"_

Kid stared. His crew stared. Hell, _everyone_ stared. As children it was a bedtime story, as adults it was a myth. A legend weaved by the Government for whatever reason. A reason Kid didn't care for. What he did care for was the massage that had just played and its content. Content that put a whole new perspective on the tale.

Well, there had to be an inkling of truth  _somewhere._ Marines would never just attack their own for the sake of fabricating false stories. So the strange and often fantastic fables of two  _dragons_  actually  _existing_  and causing chaos every so hundred years had to hold some truth. Had to be  _real._

Kid surprisingly put the Transponder Snail down without harming it. No, he was too distracted for that lost as he was ruminating about such a big development.

"Uh, Captain?" questioned a man with a blonde mohawk. He was a rather broad man shoulder-wise named Spine. His somewhat wary query was sufficient enough to bring Kid back to the present. Who immediately started smirking.

The Kid Pirates, again, stared. A smirking Kid was never a good thing, especially if he was smirking at  _someone_. That meant you were going to  _die_. But when he was smirking at  _nothing_  it was usually about something his mind had cooked up. A scheme or…information.

Eustass Kid leaned back in his chair, smirk lending a foreboding edge to his appearance. Like a predator who'd found the right position of attack and was therefore satisfied.

"Men, look out for some dragon bitches." Every one of his crew perked at the order and the prevision behind it. They could suddenly feel, maybe even sense the heavy anticipation and curiosity coming from their captain. One thing was for sure.

A curious Kid was a dangerous Kid.

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**Meanwhile...**

"We should've hid him in a tree," Liberty muttered quietly, tone dripping with sullen rancour. It had been after they had made their airborne getaway that they'd found themselves flying randomly around the lawless zone. Carrying quite the bit of cargo,  _weighty_  cargo. And if that wasn't bad enough a wound not otherwise felt due to the rush of adrenaline started making itself known. Painfully.

They'd been flying around looking for a nice hiding spot for the pirate captain when like a hole in a kite Jillian went down. Bullet wounds aren't fun. They bleed, they hurt, and in some instances damage wings. And so they'd had to find a hiding spot on  _ground_  level.

"Lib, he's  _fine_  where we left him." grumbled a very disleveled, very cantankerous Jill. She walked behind her best friend, stride slow and jerky. A tight grimace darkened her face as she remembered her injury.

_It's what I get from trying to catch a bullet._

Huffing, Jillian gripped the wound harder, pressurizing the puncture lesion. If there was one thing she despised it was the vulnerability of being  _human_. No hardened scales to protect you, no wings to fly with, and no fire to breathe. It was nearly asking the Fates to kill you. And she liked living.

Of course there were benefits to being a Gifted when in human form. Temperature didn't bug as much, senses were heightened, and claws and fangs were still usable. She guessed it was  _okay_  to be human, still sucked to be hit anywhere in the arms or hands though. A sweet spot for pain it was. And even worse if you were hit like she was. Right smack in the middle of the palm.

Jillian scowled down at her right hand, eyes roving over the bruised fingers, and the angry red skin near the entry wound. There were still red stains from all the blood she'd lost, probably why she was feeling so tired.

_Fuck blood loss! Stupid Celestial Shitbags!_

_I swear I'd rip your damn throat out with my teeth!_

_Arrgh-_

"Meh!" Jillian startled at the shout, head whipping up to see Liberty standing a few meters away. Oh. She'd gotten lost in her thoughts again.  _Not my fault._  Scowling deeper she started walking again till she came abreast with Lib. It was only then that she noticed they were stopped at the bottom of a very long staircase. Ah. It  _had_  been a long time since they'd been to see old friends. Shakky and Rayleigh would be happy to see them. Especially with the surprise in store. No one, not even they had seen them human.

So they'd be quite shocked to see two women walking into the Rip Off bar.

"Do you need more Meadowsweet? You're scowling a lot more." said Lib while glancing at Jillian's clasped hands. The cream colored paste of Filipendula seeping out from between the two palms was speckled with red. They would need actual bandages soon. The wound needed proper tending.

"I'm fine. Let's just go." Oh yeah Jill was in pain. How she knew that? Well, after spending the last  _eight hundred years_ running around together Liberty was an expert at _understanding_ what Jill said and more importantly what she _didn't_ say. The less words Jillian used to talk the more angry, in pain, or tired she was.

Good thing Shakky's bar was nearby.

Shakuyaku, or Shakky was lazily scrubbing at a stubborn coffee stain on her bar top when she heard her door open and close. Meaning: costumers, possibly pirates and/or people looking for some payback. Raising her gaze to see who'd come in was met with perplexed staring. And some blinking, too.

It's not everyday a bartender gets two cloaked people for costumers. Two cloaked  _women_  to be exact. Shakky idly wondered at the reason for said cloaks.

Smiling kindly, "What can I get you two?" She watched as the two seemed to look at each other, something passing between them. Shakky furrowed her brow, sensing that there was more going on here.

And then the one on the left brought up a hand and slid the hood back.

For a moment Shakky stared uncomprehendingly. It was the angular facial structure, the strong build, the short teal hair; it just wasn't connecting until she got to the eyes. Warm brown surrounding a ring of bright electric teal. There was only one person, one _creature_ who had eyes like that.

" _Skulley J. Liberty!_ Is that you!" exclaimed Shakky, dark brown eyes wide with surprise and excitement. She jumped clean over the bar to saunter over to the tall woman, a smile of happy shock stealing over her face.

When she got close enough she enveloped her old friend in a tight but short hug, stepping back some to see the body, the _human_ body that should've been a mythical creature. But no, here she was, human and smiling like usual. The fangs were still there but it was a wholly human smile. Blunt teeth and all. If Liberty wasn't showing some kind of elation, happiness, or giddiness than something was definitely wrong with the world.

Shakky turned to the second figure, still hidden under a green mantle. Sonneillon B. Jillian had always been the quieter one, if you let her she'd just fade away into the background. But Shakky had been visited by these two enough to know how to handle such a complicated person.

Head tilted slightly, smile still in place, "Hello, Jillian. It's been quite awhile. I hope Lib hasn't been driving you too crazy?" This particular statement was quickly followed by a huff from the latter and a shrug from Jill.

A pause.

The green cloak enshrouding Jillian rustled and rose, a hand showing, reaching to push back the heavy hood. Long teal hair spilled out to hang by a pair of slender shoulders. Long bangs framed a pale oval face holding two bluish-teal eyes. Jillian's usual expression consisted of keen observance, mild annoyance, all tinged with a sort of brooding quality that made most people very uncomfortable in her presence.

Strangely enough her expression didn't hold any of these. That was when Shakky noticed the blood coating the visible hand. Sighing she cut a look to Liberty who rolled her eyes and sighed right along with her.

One thing to know about Sonneillon B. Jillian; she did _not_ like asking for help. Often times Shakky saw the two beings before her arguing over an injury that had been allowed to go bad. That was another notable thing; bickering, or in their terms, playful banter, was always lurking around the corner in any conversation they had. It was entertaining to watch.

"Well, come in, get comfortable. I'll go in the back and get the bandages so we can wrap that wound." Shakky said good-naturedly while walking back over to her bar.

Liberty and Jillian did just that, well, after exploring the inside first. As dragon's they were far too big to even _attempt_ to fit through the front door, much less any human establishment. So for a few meticulous minutes the sounds of tinkering and investigating reigned supreme. Afterward, with their self-imposed reconnaissance completed, they took seats at the bar and waited.

It didn't take Shakky long to retrieve the first aid kit on the second floor. "So tell me about the makeover, what's the occasion?" inquired the slim barkeep as she sat down and took the offered injury in hand to be bandaged. "I have to say it's a refreshing change."

Liberty slouched over the counter, lips pursed in thought, "Hm, blame all those…what was that word-  _bigshot_  pirates running around. I don't think we've ever seen so many cool pirate flags in one place before and coming from us that's a long time. But anyway, you could say we got overly excited and just said 'what the hell, why not.' And here we are."

"Ah, do you mean the Eleven Supernova?" retorted Shakky with a calm smile, brown eyes trained on winding gauze around the bullet wound in Jillian's hand. It was a right nasty injury, shot almost clean through. Any normal human would have had a nice sized hole in their hand.

"I've heard the term before, mostly in the Lawless Grove though," quipped Jillian with a slight grimace. The growl rumbling up her throat only punctuated her discomfort. Shakky, however, went on wrapping, not at all bothered by the low guttural sound. One finger, two fingers, a pinky, then the actual wound. Wrapping  _that_  in gauze had Jillian shifting in her seat while exhaling sharply through her nostrils. The action had Liberty snickering even when her friend threw her a glare and a hissed, "Shut up."

"Yes, I imagined so. They are, as I said, eleven pirates on this island currently with bounties over a 100,000,000 beli. I am actually surprised so many rookie crews made it here at the same time." stated the ex-pirate herself. She skillfully cut off the extra bandage before tying the rest into a knot by Jillian's wrist. Finished she sat back and leaned on her elbows, posture relaxed.

It was quiet for a while. Lib and Jill using the time to take in the information. So there were eleven people with high bounties running around. No wonder they'd been alerted to such activity. Pirates that were  _wanted_  were usually very loud in their actions. How else would they get the World Governments attention. Selling snowcones to old ladies? I don't think so.

"Can we see their bounty posters? We know you have them, Shakky! Cough 'em up!" hollered Liberty with a boisterous smile. The familiar show of vociferous enthusiasm had Shakky laughing and even squeezed a chuckle or two from Jillian.

Raising to her feet the ex-pirate deftly moved behind the bar and reached into a cabinet pulling out of sheaf of paper. Flipping through them she removed the ones she wanted and placed the rest back into the compartment. A second later she spread out eleven bounty posters on the counter and sat back down in her chair.

Reactions came quick. "Hey isn't that Luffy? That's him isn't it! Wait, he's a Supernova! Holy crap!" Lib spazzed, eyes on the poster showcasing a boy wearing a familiar straw hat with a toothy grin.  _Yup, that's Luffy alright!_

"Meh, I'm surprised. He looks like a scarecrow but he must be hiding some sort of power if his reward is saying anything." added Jillian while lightly stretching the fingers of her injured hand. There was hardly any pain just a feeling of tight discomfort. She could deal with discomfort.

The two Gifted examined the rest of the bounties, commenting here or there on them, but otherwise just took in their pictures. It would not be unwise to know what each looked like. They were bound to run into some of them at some point. They only hoped it was a friendly confrontation, at least, as friendly as pirates could get.

"Now that I think about it where is the old goat? He's usually around this time of day." questioned Jillian with a cursory glance around the bar. Rayleigh was their other old friend, he was fun to be around; he had a sharp wit to him and loads of dry humor.

Shakky retrieved a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag before replying, "You actually just missed him by a couple of hours. He was here talking about the rookie crews, also said something about going off to repay some debt in Grove 1. Besides that I don't know."

Jillian smacked the counter-top with a muttered "damn it" before she slumped over, using her bundled up cloak as a pillow. Shakky watched this through mildly concerned eyes. "Are you alright, Jillian? How long was the wound bleeding?"

There was a long silence after that. Lib and Shakky were of the same mind that she'd fallen asleep when with a heavy sigh she answered, voice low. "I'm fine. But there's probably a blood trail leading all the way to where we hid the pirate captain."

Lib grimaced at that but said nothing.

"Well, knowing the exhaustion that comes with blood loss, you're probably going to be out of it until morning. You two can bunk here then go after him at first light. And knowing you two, you'll be able to scent track him like bloodhounds." Shakky's smile widened at the two women wearing stunned facial expressions. Though she'd known them for over forty years there were still little things interwoven into everything they did that foretold of a far  _older_  life style.

She could now add 'offering beds' to the long, long list of strange customs she'd witnessed over the years.

"Wow, is it bad that I can't remember the last time I slept in an actual bed?" declared Liberty with a silly grin.

A moment later Jillian huffed out a drowsy, "I second that."

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Two cloaked figures sprinted under the shade of the giant mangroves. They were shoulder to shoulder, stride for stride as they sped for Grove 1. The shorter of the two seemed to be the one leading the small two man hunting party. From under heavy hoods sharp noses pulled in a multitude of scents yet were only searching for one.

Silvers' Rayleigh.

As Shakky had said, they had been up at first light, and were out the door with a hurried  _goodbye_ before the rays of the sun ever touched the island. Dragons rose with the sun. Unless they were suffering from blood loss and had to be  _rolled_  out of bed. Or splashed with  _really_   _hot water_.

Cold just didn't cut it with Jillian. She  _loved_  frigid temperatures. Liberty  _detested_  them. So usually a bucket of steaming liquid on the head was a quick and easy, not to mention  _deadly_  depending on Jill's mood, way to wake her up. You just had to vacate the premises fast enough to dodge her claws, then you were mostly fine. Mostly.

So here they were, running their asses off on a cold,  _cold_  morning.  _Where was the sun! It needs to raise faster!_

And were presently passing under Grove 5. Almost there.

…

And Grove 4. Closer.

…

And Grove 3. Nearly there.

…

And Grove 2.  _Need sunlight!_

…

And finally Grove 1! Jillian and Liberty skidded to a halt, breathing fast but steady. They stood in silence for a while, basking in the predawn hours before sunrise, enjoying the music of the crickets, and the relative peace of the night. They really didn't need their hoods but it was a psychological comfort; they liked comfort. Plus it took away their paranoia at being seen.

Inhaling slowly, sifting through old and new smells, Jillian suddenly pivoted heading east. Lib followed not far behind. They both knew she had the better senses. Was the better hunter, though Lib held the title of fastest flyer. She did have a lighter body while transformed.

They traveled east for only twenty or so minutes, entering a massive clearing not soon after. In the dark a large round building loomed, it had a strange aura to it. Almost sinister…

The two Gifted walked right on up to the structure, teal eyes glowing in the blackness as they both squinted at the sign. They immediately stiffened upon reading it, faces contorting in snarls.

"What the  _fuck!_  What the fuck is  _this?_ " hissed Liberty, brown-teal eyes glaring at the sign that read Human Auction House. They were all too aware that Sabaody Archipelago was corrupt. That it  _allowed slavery_. But _this_ was  _disgusting_.

No words came from Jillian, whose gaze was narrowed, dark, and glaring savagely at the place. At her side, hidden by layers of cloak, her good hand fanned out before fisting tightly, till her knuckles were white.

Voice a very harsh growl, "His scent leads here but abruptly cuts off. I'm thinking he came and left…"

"Ugh, this is messed up! You think he'll come back when its light out?" snapped Liberty who was answered by a shrug and and a waspish, "The only thing we can do is sneak inside, get somewhere high, and wait him out."

So they went about breaking and entering which really turned out to be them fumbling around in the dark looking for things to wedge into a window or door. It was another ten minutes before they seemingly came back to their senses and smacked each other upside the head for the simple fact that they had  _claws._ Claws they could use to slice open locks. They did this to an inconspicuous window in the far corner.

Slipping over the windowsill and inside, they were met by darkness, pitch black  _darkness_. Lib freaked.

_Shit, fuck, fire its dark in here! No!_

Jillian rolled her eyes at her reaction, reaching into her pants back pocket and withdrawing a small clear stick. With a vicious crack she made as if to break it in half but only caused it to ignite with bright green light. She chucked it at her panicking best friend who squealed shrilly while catching it and hugging it like a teddy bear.

Why did she have to befriend someone who _hated the_   _cold_  and was literally  _scared shitless_ of the things that go bump in the night. Why?

 _Because I am insane_ … _obviously._

"Are you back to being sane?" Jillian droned sourly, cracking a second glow-stick and using it to look for high outposts. She ignored the incensed cry of "Hey!" and continued searching.

After a minute or two of perusal she found it; the perfect perch. A nice wide beam of wood supporting the main structure, and it looked like there would be enough space for them to either sit or lay fully outstretched vertically. They'd have to watch it horizontally or else they'd plummet a good seventy feet. A dangerous height as a human.

"We'll wait up there," Jillian pointed at the chosen spot for Lib who agreed readily. What came next was totally unexpected. With a short burst of light Liberty partially changed, transforming her two arms into her Tri-horn Wyvern wings before snatching Jill by the shoulders and leaping for the spot. It only took two wing-beats to get them safely on their perch.

Liberty couldn't stop the crack-your-face-in-half grin that stole over her face at Jillian's dazed expression. It was even worse when all she got was a hissed, "I am going to  _kill_  you one of these day!"

It was fun to bug Jill.

Five o'clock found the two Gifted lounging in their hiding place, waiting, waiting, and yet  _more_ waiting.

Until they fell asleep.

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Skulley J. Liberty was having a very good nap.

And one thing you  _did not do_ when Liberty was taking a nap was try to wake her up. Not unless you wanted a poisoned needle coming at you. Lib was an all around  _bitch_  after a disrupted nap. But this time sucked even more than usual.

There was nothing to take her crankiness out on. Nothing but the loud incessant  _caterwauling_  of snobbish, supercilious nobles.

_Nobles? Wait, what?_

Groggily, Liberty opened her eyes and promptly reeled back with a hiss at the shock of light. She yelped, shifted to her back, threw an arm over her face, and groaned. Having fried retinas; not fun, not fun at all. More than a little stunned at the unexpected illumination Lib laid there and let her eyes recuperate. Sight down and out she focused on her other senses to tell her what the hell was going on.

It was bright. It was loud. And apparently nobles were afoot.  _Oh joy._

That's when Liberty remembered where she was.  _Human Auction House._ With a jolt (and a flinch, _damn eyes!_ ) she sat up, careful not to slam her head on the ceiling, and looked  _down_.

Brown-teal eyes expanded. The rows of seats she had seen earlier were now full. Overly so. With nobles. Rich people.  _Ugh!_ Jillian was not going to like-…Wait, where  _was_  Jill? Looking around the wooden beam found Jill curled up near the edge completely dead to the world. Lib sighed. Her best friend had insomnia so getting to sleep for her was sometimes hard but waking up? Yeah, like pulling dragon teeth.  _Literally._

Scooching over to her lax partner Lib retrieved a plain needle from the pouch on her hip and pricked the skin on her neck. She quickly slapped a hand over her friends mouth right before a snarled " _FUCK!_ " came exploding out.

It was soon followed by some cursing, wrestling, death threats, and hissed explanations. Thank God it was noisy.

"So…let me get this straight. You woke up and found  _this_ going on? And just how the _hell_ did  _we fall asleep!_ " grouched the sleepy form of Sonneillon B. Jillian. She sat or more like crouched beside her friend, eyes narrowed, body tense with sluggish irritation. A foul mood didn't even cut it.

_Rayleigh! You better show yourself before I start massacring potential buyers!_

Lips curling, Jillian glared something ugly down at all the  _lofty people_. Then she turned her gaze to the stage and the bastard  _prancing_ around like a lunatic on it. Disco. If there was anyone on equal standing with the Celestial Shitbags it would be  _him_. Revolting, he and  _his business_ were  _revolting._ She couldn't stand it. She couldn't  _understand_  it.

Jill glanced over at Liberty to find the same expression of disgust slathered over her face. She too was watching the stage. Watched as human after human was brought out chained, crying, and sold to the crowing audience like a slab of meat.  _They were crying!_

Jillian suddenly frowned, sharp ears twitching.  _What was that?_ She scanned the crowd for the  _something._ It was a voice…

_There it was again!_

It wasn't in the crowd. Behind then. She tilted her head back slightly and was immediately able to pinpoint the voice. It was deep, a baritone, and more than a little gruff. To Jillian it sounded like slick oil.

"…ompared to the World Government we pirates almost seem humane in comparison. It's like a symbol of how messed up the world is, tch."

Hearing that snide comment brought on some serious curiosity; whoever was saying that seemed almost as disgusted as she was. She liked him already for that simple thought. He didn't like slavery either. With that thought she turned her head around to get a good look at the speaker and nearly blanched.

_What the hell is a Supernova doing here!_

_Why is Eustass "Captain" Kid doing in an Auction House?_

Brows furrowing at the odd happenstance Jillian took the time to study the captain. He was definitely… _out there_  in terms of looks and dress-wise. Colorful. Attractive, in that badass kind of way. And his  _hair!_ She didn't know whether to call it orange or red or both. Probably both. Funny thing was it looked like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket, he hair stood up like flames. Though she guessed it fit him quite well.

She wondered what her best friend would have to say about this particular man. Her gaze _had_ lingered a little too long on his bounty poster after all.

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 _Stupid! So damn stupid! Gah! I hate your hat! And your ugly glasses. They'd look better with my fist smashing them to your ugly ass face! Disco, what kind of person names their kid Disco! Lame stupid name! Go down there myself and kick your ass. Shove that microphone down your throat! See you speak then! Ha! Ugh! Why am I sitting up here again? God this sucks! I should go dow_ …

Yup, Liberty was in complete rant mood. Meaning that if there was anything to talk shit about she'd talk shit about it. Oh the joys of being a spazz. After waking her partner-in-crime they'd taken up spy positions on the edge of the beam. It was easier to see everything with nigh a head turn. No one could see them up there unless they were looking for them specifically. The only drawback was everything they could see they didn't really want to see in the first place. One, she was already grumpy from being woken up, and by nobles at that; two, Jill was exuding a mood blacker than tar which was usually a cause to worry.

Lib was surprised she hadn't started finger-fanning yet. Watching this…this loathsome event made her want to hurl her guts and throw a temper tantrum. So she could only wonder what her friend was feeling right now. Jillian always gave off the impression that she was apathetic to her surroundings when in all actuality she was very  _sensitive_  to the well-being of others. This…instinct more often than not put her in dangerous situations. And Liberty could do nothing for it. Mostly because she didn't know how to.

Something in her peripheral suddenly drew her attention from her depressing thoughts.

It was  _orange_. Liberty _loved, adored_ orange. Wait, it was white and fluffy too. And…and was that a  _bear?_

Lib stared down at the white _bear_ clad in an orange boiler suit. She noted the small group of men in identical white boiler suits standing or sitting around said bear with a raised eyebrow. Hold on, there was a man sitting in front of him. Liberty leaned down an inch curiously, brown-teal eyes squinted. White spotted fur seemed to be covering the mans head, a hat. Oh.  _Strange but cool hat._

And then she recognized him.

_Holy crap! It's that Law dude!_

A Supernova. If she remembered correctly his bounty had been 200,000,000 beli. Nothing to laugh at.  _She_  certainly wasn't laughing. Perched as she was high up in the rafters he couldn't spot her and Lib felt  _just a tinge_  of giddy triumph at being able to spy on such a wanted man without consequence.  _That's right I am awesome!_  However, the bird's eye view also gave her amble time to realize…

The Supernova called Trafalgar Law was  _hot._

_Not my type though, too lean._

But he  _was_  nicely tanned and… evidently bored out of his skull _._ The Heart pirate captain looked like he was about to fall asleep in his seat; only one grey eye remained open, watchful. He slouched to the side - with lazy grace - one of his tattooed hands propping his head up. He was frowning…  _Yup, definitely bored_. Liberty could totally understand. She'd be bored too if she wasn't so  _incensed_  with the situation.

"Hey, Lib look at this guy over here by the wall. He's the one you were staring at back at Shakky's." The voice of her best friend jolted her out of her daze and she spun on her heels, an infuriated glare flaring in her eyes. She  _hadn't_ stared at  _any_  of the posters!

"No, you come over here and look at this Trafalgar dude!"

"I asked first!"

"Meh, so?"

"Lib! Just get over here! I don't like whisper-yelling! Makes my throat dry!" Jillian barked from her side of the beam. She wasn't budging. Neither was Lib for that matter.

Liberty sighed, rolled her eyes, and proposed, "Okay, fine, how about _this._  Both of us look at the other guy at the same time."

A moment of silence yawned between them before they started moving toward the opposite edge. One looked right and straight, the other looked left and down.

Reactions?

" _Damn!_ "

" _Damn!_ "

Hook, line, and sinker.

A few minutes of unabashed ogling later saw the two Gifted sprawled out in the middle of the beam, ridiculous grins stretching their faces. They just couldn't stop  _grinning._

"He's  _really_   _hot_ , did you  _see_  those abs!  _Yum._ And that coat! So fluffy! I  _want_  it, Jill!" Liberty whined, voice still a whisper but drenched with playful longing.

The body beside her snorted in amusement. "Oh? Aren't you going to comment on his hair, his goggles, the sash, not to mention his pants? I could've sworn you would've said something about those yet you focus on his body instead. I always knew you were a perverted lizard." Jillian smirked devilishly.

Liberty bolted to a sitting position, face slack and gaping. "I…I am  _not_  a perv! And did you just call me a lizard? You  _stupid gecko!_  I was just admiring someone with an awesome physique! And what about  _you_ , Miss  _Damn!_ Huh?  _Huh?_ Normal people don't just say ' _damn_ ' to any ole' thing. It's either really hot or really ugly and I'll admit Law is definitely not on the ugly side. So spill it! What do you think?"

Lib glared expectantly.

Tense silence.

"… _Fine_ , fine, you persistent  _lizard_  he was hot! Okay, I  _admit_  it! I like his hat, I like his eyes, I even like his weird ass pants!" Jillian growled in a rush of air.

" _And?_ "

"What the Verdaron do you want me to say!"

" _And!_ "

"Arrgh! Get off my back! I'm not saying it!"

" _AND!_ "

" _FINE!_ I like his body, Goddamn it! You  _happy_ now!"

Skulley J. Liberty sat back, content smile in place, and a satisfied twinkle in her brown-teal eyes. With relish she said, "Yesh."

_Oh the joys of peer pressure._

After their somewhat ' _quiet_ ' contention Jillian and Liberty went back to  _reluctantly_  watching the auction. Both were of the same mind,  _where the fuck is Rayleigh!_  He, unfortunately, was not to be seen but his scent still pervaded the chamber so they knew he was  _somewhere_. Thus they waited. Impatiently. With lots of finger-tapping and annoyed huffs.

The front door opened, spilling warm sunlight into dark shadow and for a moment, an instant they were visible. Thank the Spirits no one looked up. Well, actually  _back_  and then  _up_. Then the door closed again, and they glanced down to see who'd entered so late. Ready and waiting to spew infuriated vitriol on them if they were nobles.

While they were rich, they were not aristocrats. They were pirates.  _Familiar_  pirates.

"Hey, look! Isn't that Hachi and Pappug and Chopper? Whoa, he looks cool transformed!" Liberty exclaimed with a smile, glad for the distraction. Both watched as the group of six pirates walked in, faces grim for a reason they did not know. Nevertheless it sent a tight ball rolling in their stomachs; something was wrong.

"They look stressed and smell desperate," Jillian muttered with a frown, blue-teal eyes trained on observing several dour expressions. Lib hummed in silent agreement. It almost seemed like something, or someone had  _died_. But then why would they be here? Unless…unless someone had been taken.

_Oh shit!  
_

Lib and Jill turned to stare at each other, feeling dread, and said in unison, " _Camie!_ "

Their mermaid friend was suspiciously absent.  _Taken_. Blood went cold and faces blanched. Camie was young,  _innocent_ , _too_ innocent! She didn't deserve slavery. No one did.

" _Fuck!_ She's probably in the back. We have to rescue her! Why are we just  _sitting here?_ " Before Liberty could go flying off the beam in righteous fury a clawed hand snatched her arm and  _wrenched_. The slice of sudden  _pain_ to her system slapped the beginnings of a spazz attack right off Liberty's noggin. With a high pitched  _yip_  that was quickly muffled, Jillian pulled her back with a hissed, " _Would you wait!_ Those pirates down there seem to have a plan. So let's just stay  _here_  and see where it goes before flying off with claws slashing. We  _don't_  want to blow our cover unless we have to, damn it!"

Said spazz sat back, horribly unsatisfied, and pouted. "Don't give me that look. You know it's better if we stay hidden for the time being, too many damn humans. What's even worse, the fucking Celestial Shitbags are here."

A loud oleaginous voice caused them to wince. It sucked having sensitive ears. As one they turned to glare _hate_ at the culprit.  _Shut up, Disco! No one wants to hear your ugly, slimy voice! Put a cork in it asshole!_

They glared harder when they  _heard_  what he was saying.  _Camie!_

The two Gifted watched, as everyone did, as a covered  _something_  was hauled out. Seconds later showed Lib and Jill with hands firmly clasped over their ears, two pained grimaces gracing their faces, their  _pale disgusted_ faces. If  _watching_  wasn't bad enough, hearing it,  _hearing_  the wild catcalls and eager crowing was nigh unbearable.

Gut-wrenching. Utterly sickening.  _I want to puke!_

And hearing the betting was just salt rubbed into the wound.

In fact they were too caught up with watching the unveiling, actually  _seeing_  Camie to notice Kid move to leave, nor the strange sort of hum that was steadily growing louder. And louder.

_**Crash, bang, slam!** _

And just like that all hell broke loose.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

"Ucgh, this  _sucks!_ I need another dip in a lake, or a shower! Stupid dust! Stupid  _explosion!_ " coughed Lib, hands patting at the debris clinging to her like a second skin. Her breathing was rough, somewhat hoarse, and very heavy. Almost labored.

She looked down at herself, lips falling into a scowl. Ruined. Her nice, thick  _warm_  cloak was  _ruined_. That was a sin in her mind. With a jerk she ripped the piece of torn cloth off revealing red curduroy jeans and a white t-shirt with embroidered scythes on the back and front. While the cloak had taken the brunt of the impact her outfit was still a little dusty. Not cool but it couldn't be helped.

Waving a hand around her face she peered around the pillar she'd jumped to during the sudden esplosion. Where was Jill? She'd jumped to safety right behind her just in the nick of time. If they'd been human they wouldn't be alive right then, thank God for instincts. Sensing the danger a second before it hit had given them the the window to dodge. In other words, leap for all they were worth to the nearest beam.

Dust settling some Lib was able to see a prone figure against where the beam met the wall. It wasn't moving.  _Jill!_ Staggering over rubble, black boots slipping on loose rock, Lib ran over to her best friend and…guffawed.

Body pressed tightly against the wall, arms outstretched with knuckles white, blue-teal eyes impossibly wide and in a stupor was Jillian. She seemed to be shell shocked. The sound of laughter had the dazed glaze over her eyes receding to be immediately replaced with a surly glare. Shoving herself off the wall with an ill-tempered growl only had Jill veering to the side. This only had Liberty in fits all the more.

"Shut the fuck up! God, what is  _wrong_  with this place! I get shot and then  _the whole damn roof_ has to come down! And I _lost_ my cloak, damn it!" ranted the shorter Gifted angrily as she pushed herself up to her feet albeit shakily at first.

Her outfit, while not at colorful as Lib's, was just as dusty. Black boots over equally black jeans and a purple blouse completed her apparel.

" _CAAAMMIIEE!_ "

It seemed loud noises had taken a liking to  _cleaving_  their brains in half lately. And making their ears bleed too. From where they stood on the southmost beam they could see Luffy and his first mate Zoro standing next to a…a giant fish?

The rubber Supernova was erratically looking around, black eyes darting in all directions. When he caught sight of Camie on the stage, chained, and in what appeared to be a huge fish-bowl he charged down the stairs, mouth open and bellowing.

" _CCAAMMMIIIEEE!_ "

Movement grabbed Lib and Jill's attention; Hachi had bolted after Luffy, wrapping his two visible arms around him in order to slow him down. To everyone watching it was obvious it wasn't working. When Hachi realized this he did something that had Liberty and Jillian stiffening in horror.

He revealed himself as a fishman.

_Oh Shit!_

Instant screaming. General horror and racist disgust. Nobles of every sort lurched in their seats, an attempt to get away from the  _contamination_. The abrupt outburst of aghast yelling startled Hachi who stopped to stare perplexed at all the surrounding people. With a gasp he noticed that in his desperation to get to Luffy before he did something  _risky_ he'd used his  _other arms_ to help stall him.

The people of Sabaody Archipelago were horribly racist in their views of fishmen and perceived them to be nothing more than ugly vile beasts. Liberty and Jillian more often than not had had to save a number of fishmen over the years because of such racism. They  _hated_  it.

Jillian's body stiffened again. Her ears had caught the quiet rustling of something metal and it had her instincts  _positively roaring_ in response.

_DANGER! DANGER! MOVE!_

She moved just before the  _ **bang!**_

" _Jillian!_ "


	4. Bullets, Dragons, and Dares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own One Piece, if I did Ace would be alive and Akainu would be in Hell.
> 
> Here's the newest chapter! Enjoy!

_"When the sky turns gray,_

_And everything is screaming,_

_I will reach inside,_

_Just to find my heart is beating._

_You tell me to hold on,_

_'cause I'm bleeding out._

_I'm bleeding out for you."_

**Bleeding out by Imagine Dragons.**

Pain.

Crippling,  _choking_ ,  _ **pain!**_

It exploded from her chest like hot magma out of a volcano, spreading and searing  _everything_. The deteriorating hollow  _throb_  of it paralyzed her, froze her to the marrow of her bones. But the _burn_ was worse, it ate at her brain with hot embers, rebounding off her sanity and twisting it into something grotesque. It was a horrible haunting dogged pain.

She ran from it, ran from the pain that bit at her heels like a rabid canine. Deeper, deeper into the darkness she went and slowly, ever so slowly the pain, the  _burn_ paled under a wave of cool blackness. It caressed her, beckoned her to follow it and gladly she did if only to escape the seething agony. So she surrendered to the smooth tide of shadows and floated off into the distance.

No worries.

No fears.

No pain.

No screaming.

No annoying shaking—

… _Screaming_ … _and_   _shaking_ …?

… _Why?_

Something,  _something_  invaded the world of inky darkness then. It bore a hole, drilled through shadow, made sound, created light. It disturbed the fragile sanctuary where she'd burrowed herself to escape the fiery pain.  _No_ ,  _let her stay in this cool painless existence_ some part of her pleaded. But the silence, the  _darkness_  wavered around her, became shades of grey interwoven with white. That brightness grabbed her and ripped her away from the safety of the shadows. Every ounce of her mentality screamed, recoiled at this; the pain, that horrible mind-shattering pain would be there, ready to sink-

_"_ … _ome back_ … _ou_ … _ward_ … _you_ … _onger_ … _"_

A voice. A distorted,  _desperate_  voice. It sounded muffled and resonant as it pierced the gloom. She wondered at it; why did it sound so despairing, what was the cause of such desperation? And who was  _you?_ Who had the voice been talking about?

New voices, vaguely familiar ones, suddenly punched through the obscurity. They _jolted_ her, caused the wavering darkness to fluctuate even more. And that disturbing light leaked in, seeped through the cracks and  _touched her_. The light had never touched her before, not like the cool blackness, no, this was not so friendly.

It shocked her. Pushed at her, forced her back up to the surface. The surface where she'd fallen, fled from the pain, and eventually gave herself over to the soothing darkness. The voices started growing in volume, losing that muffled quality; they were calling for someone.

Someone named Jillian. _Jillian?_

Who was this Jillian?

…

_Me_.

_She_  was Jillian.  _She_  was the one the voices were screaming for. The desperate voice was screaming for  _her_. Reality, or a sense of reality hit her, smacked her back to her sanity. Found the key to the cage housing her strength. Like a babe being born into the world she remembered.  _Remembered_  the sharp sound of a gun being drawn, the shrieking of her instincts, and the burning deep-set pain in her chest. And Hachi.  _Hachi_  who'd been stupid enough to reveal himself, Hachi who would've been shot dead by a Celestial Shitbag.

She'd taken the bullet for him.

With that realization she started struggling, flailing in that empty grey plane of existence. She wanted out, and she wanted out  _now_.  _Wake up, damn it! Wake up!_

The more she fought, the more she strived for that light of reality, the more the pain came back followed by the deafening cacophony of  _life_. The darkness still lingered, lingered at the edge of her mind. But it was bleeding away, receding back into the recesses of her psyche. In exchange she started  _feeling_  things.

Movement. Sensation. Pain.

She could feel hands holding her shoulders, could feel the world tip on its side, and cold tile. She was laying on cold tile. She could feel the pain too. It still burned, still took her breath away while simultaneously making her want to retch and scream her lungs out. But it was somehow dulled like the wound had gone numb. It throbbed with only the pale shadows of its predecessor.

It was hard to breathe. She could feel the convulsing of her torso, the lancing pain that came with it, and the  _squelching_  sound of each labored inhale. That's when she tasted the blood,  _felt_  the blood.

She was covered in the warm liquid. It coated her mouth, her tongue, slipped out the corners of her lips, and dribbled down her chin. Twitching her fingers, moving her hand was met with more wet warmth. Was it everywhere? Just how much blood had she lost?

These questions broadsided her, prodded her mind, and roused her curiosity. She wanted to see with her own eyes but her body wasn't having any of it. Blinking, raising those lids took energy, energy needed to heal. To stop from fading. From dying.

Then sound returned. Actual sound. She could suddenly hear  _everything._ Voices, tones, fear! Someone was talking, and quickly. She could hear the desperation again. What was it saying?

"… _ange!_ Change! Just change to dragon, please! _Jill!_ You're going to die! Jill!  _change!_ "

It was  _that voice_ , the one she'd heard while stuck in the darkness of her mind. It was _Lib_ , Liberty. Skulley J. Liberty;  _her best friend_ , her fellow Gifted. Her partner-in-crime.  _She was calling_. Pleading. Begging.

_To change._

To what? What was a Gifted, anyway?

And image assaulted her abruptly. An image of water, sea water, and a face. A  _dragon_  face.  _Familiarity._  She was familiar with this creature. No, that was wrong. She  _was_  that creature. That dragon reflected on the ocean surface _was her._

Like an epiphany it washed over her. Like a puzzle, everything fell into place; it made sense.

_"You're going to die!"_

She was going to die if she didn't change.

… _Change_ …

So laying in a pool of her own blood Jillian shoved back the pain, ignored the voices, and reached into that intrinsic part of herself that was covered in scales.

Reached for the Hellfire Wyvern.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Thinking back on it Skulley J. Liberty should've known this would happen. Being close friends with Sonneillon B. Jillian for over eight hundred years should've polished her ability to tell when Jill was about to do something risky. So she should've known her best (stupid!) friend would lunge off the beam just as Saint Charloss pulled the trigger on Hachi.

Should've known she would take a  _bullet to the chest._

But, no, that wasn't how it happened. She'd sat there,  _frozen_ , watching in blank-faced horror. Watched as her friend, as _Jill_ , used Dragon Speed to appear in front of Hachi in time to block the oncoming projectile. She'd succeeded brilliantly. And now she was dying.

_Dying!_

_Jill was dying!_

" _Jillian!_ "

Liberty screamed. She screamed so loud it left her ears ringing, her lungs gasping, and her throat sore. But she didn't care. She  _didn't care_ because that was _her friend_  down there. And the spray of blood that came from the impact  _scared her_. Scared her to the point where she couldn't even hear her own heart pounding in her ears. Her vision tunneled and all she could see was Jillian still standing there, shot, bleeding, and not even conscious. She wasn't even  _conscious_  but she was  _still standing._ Even knocked out cold Jillian was still stubborn.

It was with a dim thought of  _bye-bye cover_  that really never registered in her mind that she leaped off the wooden beam partially transformed and flew to the bloodied form of her best friend. Not once did she take in the reactions of those witnessing her sudden appearance nor Jillian's for that matter. All her frantic attention was trained on Jill. Jill and the unnerving -  _Oh my God!_  - amount of blood coating her front. The bright purple of her shirt was now a dark mauve.

Being that close, actually  _smelling_  so much blood nearly imploded her nostrils. It was that strong, that abrasive. But this was Jill, and Jill was hurt. Hurt bad. She needed help!

_No no no no no no no!_ It played like a restless mantra in her head, spiraling around and around, building into a crescendo of frenzied thought processes. It was a saving grace when Hachi reached out to grab the inert form of Jillian only to lay her on her side gently. Lib felt too sick, too weak, too panicked to move. To do anything. She was a master of poisons, of herbs. Knew thousands of mixtures that could relieve pain yet now when such knowledge was needed she  _couldn't lift a finger_ to help. To save.

And it  _killed_  her. Jillian had watched her back, had made it her business to make sure no one messed with her. And here she was freezing when things got hot. She  _would not forgive_ herself. And Skulley J. Liberty was a very forgiving person.

Brown-teal eyes wide and staring she dropped to her knees uncaring of the blood seeping into her red corduroys. Lib swallowed thickly, Jill was pale for a human but looking at her now…it was wrong. It was  _wrong_  to see her so deathly pallid.

Her hands were numb, numb from flicking and waving around wildly in her desperation. Sitting there she trembled, her breathing harsh and inconsistent. Lib was nearing hyperventilation. Her head was growing dizzy as if her equilibrium itself was bouncing up and down.

She felt cold then.  _So very cold_. Faintly, Lib wondered if death was nearby, ready to snatch Jill away from her. Ready to steal the friend that had been with her since the beginning. The friend that stood, undaunted, beside her through the hellish decades and dark nights.

Jill couldn't leave her.  _She just couldn't!_

And like a light-bulb coming on an idea, a  _God-send_ lit up in her thoughts. If Jill was shot in the chest,  _as a human_ , then all she needed to do was change into her Hellfire Wyvern form. As dragons they had accelerated regenerative abilities. Her hardened scales would help to seal the wound and keep it from bleeding out. That way she wouldn't run the risk of bleeding to death. Jillian had already lost so much blood.

It was literally everywhere. On her clothes, the tile, her jeans, and on Hachi.

It was even on her hands.  _Her hands_.

_Oh my fucking Spirits!!_

And she'd already been suffering from blood loss.

Mind  _somewhat_  back to being rational Liberty leaned over Jill, eyes fixed, vigilant for any movement whatsoever. Hesitantly she brought her hand up to shakily place it on Jillian's throat. Blood speckled fingers moved to check her pulse. For a heart-stopping moment she quit breathing when she didn't feel anything.

…

… _Bah-dum_ …

…

… _Bah-dum_ …

…

… _Bah-dum_ …

It was there, frighteningly faint and sluggish but still there. Still beating.  _Still alive_. Jill was still alive. That thought, that simple little thought was like oil to a dying flame. Water to a desert survivor. It was a balm to her speeding heart, her raspy breathing, and her sanity.

_Jill was still alive._

_Jill needed to change to_ _**stay** _ _alive._

Hand rising Lib placed it on Jillian's cheek, letting it rest there, before she smacked the skin lightly.  _She_ _ **had**_ _to get her attention._

Voice hoarse and low with a hint of hysteria, "H-hey, Jill! C'mon wake up! You gotta wake up! I-I'll…I'll throw hot water on you again!"

A moment of silence. Heavy nerve-wracking silence.

Nothing. Not even a twitch or a groan. There was no growl of annoyance, no hiss of hostility.  _Nothing_. For a second Lib felt the fear, the helplessness rise from her gut to attack her mind again.

She used the mantra  _Jill's alive Jill's alive Jill's alive_ to combat the rising doubt. With regained focus she tried again, this time with the beginnings of frustration. Her hand actually stung when she brought it down on her friends cheek. The sound echoed in her ears, seared at her heart.

" _Jillian!_ You're  _not_  allowed to leave! Come back  _coward!_ You're stronger than this!  _Wake up already!_ "

Dimly Lib sensed the presence of Hachi beside her, on his knees, gently shaking her friend. Helping her. It touched her deeply. She was also dimly aware of a loud muffled crashing sound going off somewhere behind her. She ignored the small bit of curiosity at that in favor of waking up Jill.

It had been two minutes and twenty-six seconds. For someone bleeding as Jill was that was  _dangerous._

That fact popped the top off on Liberty's patience. Her hand came down harder on Jill's cheek and this time she felt no lingering guilt over it. "Damn it Jill! Change!  _Bitch_  if you  _don't_  wake up and change _I'm_ going to _kill you!_ Change! Just change to dragon, please! Jill! You're going to die! Jill!  _change!_ "

Lib gasped, eyes widening, hope flaring when she caught the barest hint of a twitch. Jillian's finger had twitched.  _Life!_ She just hoped something in that head of hers had heard her shouting. Had heard her say  _change._

…

Hachi startled, eyes blinking in astonishment, everyone who was watching mirroring his surprised expression as the still body began to  _glow._ It was a subtle illumination one that caught the senses and intrigued the mind. But the spell was broken with the abrupt entry of shouting from Lib to " _oh shit! Move!_ "

Three clueless pirate crews stared and  _continued_  to stare.

Until they caught sight of the human body  _growing_.

They moved.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Shock. Befuddlement. Awe.

Such emotions abounded within the minds of all those watching. It was with much amazement that they looked upon Jillian fully transformed. The immense body of rough scales the color of dark granite, teal, and purple had them staring silently. The dragon was almost  _too big_ to take in all at once. They were all of the same mind; if the creature had been  _any larger_ the auction house would've burst and they would've been crushed. Even laying on its side wings halfway closed the bulk of it still brushed,  _pressed_  against the ceiling. It truly was a massive creature.

During the transformation the Heart pirates had to relocate to a place by the doorway. Sitting in the seats was just not an option anymore. Not unless you wanted to be made into a pancake. Each crew seemed to have its own way of reacting to such a legend. Said Heart pirates gawked with wide eyes, their mouths momentarily hitting the floor before slamming back into their faces. They soon lost themselves in excited prattling.

The Heart pirate captain was another cup of tea entirely. His reaction was not so visible; the bored frown he'd worn for most of the auction was now gone. In its place stretched a smirk so devious, so disturbingly pleased that members from his own crew who saw it instantly quieted and paled. They, and only they recognized such a darkly satisfied look and felt pity for the girl who'd thrown herself in front of the fishman.

Because she'd thrown herself right into Law's radar. She'd become a puzzle. A challenge. And their captain  _never_  turned down a challenge. Never. What was even more unnerving than the foreboding smirk was the show of expression hidden beneath the shadow of a furry spotted hat. Unbeknownst by his crew merciless grey eyes narrowed and sparked with avarice. They darkened, became half-lidded and that prodigious mind started weaving a web of intricate design.

A web fit to ensnare a legend.

He'd decided once during the broadcast that he'd  _encounter_  such mythical creatures. Now,  _now_  he'd set about making that encounter more… _permanent_. Law's smirk widened and morphed with blood-chilling emotion.

It did not reach his cold grey eyes.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Ten or so feet from the Heart pirates stood the silent Kid pirates. They, very much like the latter crew, were caught up in the spell of astonishment. But the crew did not break out into instant conversation. No, they watched the beast intently, took in the way it breathed slowly, the whole of its reptilian body raising with the inhale and falling with the exhale. They watched it shift, a wickedly clawed foot scraping against tiny pews and rubble, or a wing twitch closer to its dark powerful torso. They also watched the score of emotions flit across their captains face.

The wide bloodthirsty grin that usually painted Kids face was absent. A tense guarded look was in its place. Dark lips were pursed together in a thoughtful frown, not one hint of mania or bloodlust present. Even more ominous were his crimson eyes, glinting maliciously as they watched the wyvern that lay not but three feet in front of him. It was a very foreboding gaze, filled with blatant greed and ruthless ambition.  _Conquest._

It was a gaze filled to the brim with domination and ruin.

Suddenly that gaze slanted, rose, and landed on a figure crawling  _on_ the dragon. It was the second teal haired girl. The taller one. Kid watched her closely as she climbed to what was quite possibly the head of the creature. He wasn't sure with the huge wing obscuring his vision. She seemed sure-footed as she scaled the beast using the jutting side scales as footholds only having to catch herself twice when the wyvern shifted.

His gaze narrowed further, became tinged with calculation when he saw her stop at the wing-joint before flipping over to the head. He was sure it was the head because of the two horns sticking out like spears. They certainly looked sharp enough. Blistering red eyes honed in on the traversing form of the girl, and continued to stare when she slid down a surface of the creature that he realized was the snout.

What came next had him  _and_  his crew fixed on watching.

She'd started to scream. And, no, it wasn't like the earlier terrified shrieking, this was  _furious_ ,  _enraged screaming_. And it got even better. The Kid pirates, who'd been bored the whole time whilst watching the auction were finally getting some entertainment. They watched, highly amused, as the teal haired woman viciously  _wailed on_ the muzzle of the dragon. A dragon who dwarfed her vastly.

Shockingly enough the wyvern, Jillian, seemed to cow under such brutal reproach. But the woman wasn't having  _any of it_ as with both hands she grabbed the edge of ridged skin belonging to a nostril and  _jerked._ What  _topped_  their amusement wasn't the show of surprising violence but the absolutely _foul_ sailors mouth. The girl was spewing vitriol right and left in her heated reprimanding and it  _excited_ Kid.

Powerful, violent, and strong; qualities that Kid looked for in a new crewmate. He was excessively picky with those who joined under him. He'd only have the best. If he was going to be the next Pirate King his crew needed to be top-notch to stand with him at the top. Weaklings  _could go die_. Kid did  _not_ tolerate weakness. He tolerated it less in his crew. No one he sailed with was weak. No one.

And this girl, this  _Wyvern Sister_ currently roasting her partner was powerful. He could sense it. As he'd sensed it with all of his crewmates. Previously frowning lips slowly, tortuously curled into something twisted. Something  _hungry._ It contorted his features, made his eyes gleam with dark promise.

Oh yes, he'd make that girl join. One way or another.

She'd be calling him  _captain._

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

_That bitch was_ _**going to die!** _

It was a thought that was quickly growing popular in her mind as she _stalked_ to where Jillian's head was. Now that Jill was in her Hellfire form the wound would heal within three to four days  _if_  she rested properly. Lib  _would make_ sure she rested and not go flying off to lick her wound alone. Oh no, she wouldn't  _get that_  privilege.

She'd lost all grip with being in Lib's good graces. Nope, she was officially on her  _shit list_ this time. She'd be making it up to her for _centuries_. If this was the beginnings of a bloody  _trend_ then to hell with showing the world their human side, she liked being sane! And happy. And without friends with bullet holes!

_That bitch was_ _**so going to die!** _

Liberty jumped over a darkly scaled claw, bypassing the ground altogether for climbing over Jill's body. It was easier than walking over unstable debris. She could feel just by scaling over rough dragon skin that Jillian's breathing was heavy and slow. There was an audible hitch in the respiration that was like salt to the wound of her anxiety.  _Jill, don't you fucking move!_

Lib clambered over the bright teal and purple of Jillian's wing; it was currently being used as a sort of fleshy shield for her vulnerable chest. Being so massive in body she was not even halfway stretched out, more like curled awkwardly on her side with her huge wings pressed tightly to her ribs. It was the only way to go without bringing the whole structure down on everyone.

Skulley J. Liberty paused at the shoulder before executing a flip and landing squarely between Jill's two main skull horns. A moment later saw her sliding down the long snout and hitting the ground with a light _thump_.She took a minute to lean over and look around the wing to get a good gist of how bad the wound was. The sight had her scowling,  _actually scowling_.

Being a dragon helped because of the armor-like scales covering them from head to tail. It was even better when you were hurt in your human form and  _changed_. Reverting was just one essence taking over another and it opened the door for their accelerated healing. The human body was still in there somewhere but with it taking a backseat the dragon part of them was allowed to reign supreme. This meant the wound was still visible, yet wasn't open to air or infection as it was sealed and covered by the layer of protective chest scales. Scales, surprisingly, weren't their real skin. No, scales were for protection, breed distinction, and color.

While this was a comfort to Lib it still disturbed her to see a blotchy red star  _blossoming_ under scales and tinting them a murky burgundy color.  _And she liked burgundy!_

With a snarl foreshadowing a tempest she turned to glare at the two half-lidded slit eyes watching her tiredly. Seeing those eyes, staring into their unique blue-teal only brought on more fury. Those eyes would've closed and shut away the blue-teal forever. They would dim and glaze over, white out, and lose that glowing luminance. They would've never opened again.

Lib's jaw clenched to the point where she could hear her back molars creaking.

Then she exploded.

"You son of a  _bitch! You son of a fucking bitch!_ What  _the hell_ was going through that  _damn skull of yours!_ Huh!  _Fucking bitch!_  Are you suicidal!  _Are you?_ " Lib was past rant mode and  _beyond._ She was so far gone in her temper that she didn't even regret using _violence_ to show just  _how_  pissed off she was. And she was pissed off. Lib was  _seething_ with it. Absolutely seething with rage.

She released it all on Jillian in the form of  _repeatedly_  punching and/or smacking her sensitive nose. She  _deserved_  it!

"If you  _so much as even think_ of doing that  _again_  I am going to  _ **rip**_ _your goddamn wings off! You stupid fucking gormless clodpoll!_ " Jillian was already in a weird position and with the tight space had little to move her huge head. So it was easy for Lib to tell when she was trying to hide away in the curve of her wing. Jill never got the chance. Nearly hissing and spitting and rabid with anger Liberty reached out and  _dug her nails_ into the soft skin on the inside of the nostrils. She showed no mercy when she  _wrenched_  said soft skin, therefore cementing Jill's wandering attention back on her.

It probably hurt like a bitch -  _Good! Feel my pain asshole! -_  since it was a place rich with nerves. The loud echoing groan that resounded in the auction house was only more proof to that fact. It also had their  _audience_  gawking and staring even more.

"Do you  _know_  how _fucking scared_ I was! I can't even  _put it into words_ you  _piece of lickspittle shit!_ Gah! I seriously  _want to kill you_ right now! You are such an  _incorrigible fuckfaced bastardized asshat! Ugh!_ I'm probably gonna have  _nightmares_  for the rest of my life! And you  _know what? IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!_ "

If Jillian's ears weren't bleeding before they were now. She seemed rightly scandalized in her expression if the thunderous sigh and slumping shoulders were anything to go by. To everyone watching it looked as if the dragon was curling in on itself. They were then  _shocked_ when they heard a rumbling voice that somehow came off as feminine boom through the place. It was a deep bassy growl that shouldn't have spoken words they understood.

"…Yes, I know. I knew you'd kick up a row over this. But Hachi isn't a dragon like us, isn't a Gifted. He can't transform and heal _just like that_. I had to do  _something_ , damn it. Don't you  _dare_  take  _this_  away from me, Lib! You and I both know he would have  _died_  if I hadn't stepped in! And I'm tough, I can handle it."

Liberty stilled, went red, and hissed, "Tough!  _You're_  tough! Oh yeah, so I guess _standing_ there unconscious  _bleeding to death_ makes you tough!  _You are an idiot!_ And  _handle it?_ Jill, you almost  _died_ , you stopped breathing for a second. I couldn't find your fucking pulse! No, no, there was no handling. You shou—  _Arrgh!_ "

A sudden blast of haki roared through everyone's mind, weighing down bodies, and knocking out everyone left in the building deemed an enemy. The intensity had the pirates blinking, wondering who was emitting such terrible power.

The Two Gifted weren't as lucky as the three pirate crews. Haki to a dragon was often times dangerous. It was even lethal to hatchlings. It was purely someones mental prowess, their  _will_ , that they projected onto others that harmed a dragon. There were no physical wounds, no, haki targeted what was called Mind Flow.

Mind Flow was the synergy of a dragons essence. It controlled all aspects of transformation; the delicate balance needed for such a drastic change. The energy inside flowed like a river through the mind and body creating a source and a conduit. If this inner flow was disrupted the derailed energy became erratic and wild. Unstable, causing something like a migraine to a human.

Most times it called for total sensory overload.

One word: painful.

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No one anticipated the  _excruciatingly loud_  roar ripping across their senses. Nor the piercing shriek of pain wailing right alongside it. The deafening cries forced everyone to slam hands down over their ears and clench their teeth in a grimace. Then it stopped, breaking off just as the haki blast ended. The echo of it rebounded off the walls and melded uncomfortably with the awful ringing in everyone's ears. It was even loud enough to jog Luffy out of his awed trance. Yup, the captain of the Strawhats had been strangely quiet under such fantastic circumstances.

After having punched that Celestial Dragon and seeing the transformation he'd been too caught up in staring like a lunatic to react as he usually would. Like an even  _bigger_ lunatic. Blinking somewhat owlishly, the rubber-man idly thumped a curiously throbbing ear before looking around at everyone. They too were gingerly rubbing at their ears with varying degrees of discomfort and general 'what-the-fuck-ness.'

It was with the hardly used pile of  _something_  in his head that Luffy remembered why he was standing in an auction house in Grove 1: Camie. But before he could tackle the literal  _mountain_ of dragon flesh in his way an old man with grey hair and an intricate beard holding  _his missing friend_ appeared.

Without the deadly exploding neck-ring.

Gasps and cries of shock filled the air when the Strawhat crew saw this for themselves. Hachi and Pappug immediately ran forward to greet their close friend who was now safe. When Hachi got close enough to the old stranger he nearly reeled back from the surprise.

"R-ray-san? Ray-san is that really you!" croaked Hachi, eyes wide as he stared at his old friend. Said man smiled good-naturedly while giving his cargo over to the octopus fishman. After watching the fated reunion between seafarers Rayleigh turned to the man who'd first caught his eye.

"Ah, Monkey D. Luffy. I've wanted to meet you for a while." said the Dark King with a mysterious smile. The oddball statement was met with much confusion and wariness among the crews especially the Strawhats. They shifted restlessly gazes jumping from Luffy to the stranger. Luffy didn't take this declaration as a threat as his instincts were not riled at the words. He stared at the old man, sensing something just beyond his scope of understanding but it lingered in his mind nevertheless. Whispering, telling him quietly that this man was someone important. A friend, an ally.

Over to the side Eustass 'Captain' Kid leaned against the wall a strange smirk pulling at his lips, narrowed red eyes trained on the first mate of the Pirate King.  _This man_ …

Now there were  _two_  legends present. "Who'd have thought we'd run into such a big shot here? Dark King, Silvers' Rayleigh." uttered the red-haired Supernova smugly. A second later the intense gaze of 'Ray-san' locked on Kid, smile still in place, "These days I go by Ray-san so please don't use that name again. I am an old man now and would like to live peacefully."

Rayleigh let what he'd said sink in and turned to face the quietly whimpering Wyvern Sisters. He'd known they were around and was only sorry that he couldn't have warned them about the haki. It was the only way efficient enough to immobilize all the foes still prowling around. So he walked up to the crumpled form of Skulley J. Liberty and the head of Sonneillon B. Jillian, aware of all the eyes boring into him and his actions. Ah, the new generation.

Kneeling down, dark eyes softening Rayleigh gently placed a hand on Lib's temple and focused. He found he always had to do this when either of the two were hit with haki. Utilizing his haoshoku haki he used a highly concentrated stream and slipped it into the girl's mind. This worked to repair the agitated synergy without it noticing the intrusion. The pained groaning coming from Lib slowly ebbed after he pulled his hand away. She did not awaken though; it took time for a dragon to recuperate from a haki blast.

"Hey, gramps what are you doing?" questioned a slim young man who Rayleigh remembered as Usopp of the Strawhats. He slanted a look over his shoulder at all the pirates watching, gazes narrowed inquisitively. While hopping onto the large muzzle of Jillian, doing the same thing he'd done to Lib he explained just a little of what he was accomplishing.

"Since these two aren't human they do not react to Haki like everyone else. Dragons, or Wyverns like them possess a special kind of inner balance. It it similar to what we call equilibrium but it is far more complex. This inner balance is vital for a dragon to be able to transform, if the balance is interrupted the energy needed to change becomes unstable. And as you can see it is quite debilitating."

"Yes, I remember…on Ohara there was talk of dragon-human hybrids who used the synergy of their two essences to take a dominant state." murmured Robin softly, gaze distant. This information was processed with more than a little curiosity. Curiosity mainly stemming from the three Supernova captains.

"If this synergy is damaged how long will they stay in this regenerative sleep?" The question came from a very intrigued Trafalgar Law. Rayleigh jumped down from the snout, hair blowing slightly when Jillian exhaled. He met the keen gaze of the "Dark Doctor" evenly, not once looking away from the studious stare.

Lips tilting at the thirst for knowledge in the younger mans eyes he replied, "Not long. A dragons healing prowess is unlike anything we humans have come across yet in this day and age. They will probably be waking up soon."

Luffy frowned in confusion at the words 'regenerative' and 'prowess' but he got the gist of what was being said. Did that mean the dragon lady who'd been shot would be okay? She'd been hit in the chest by a bullet and there had been a lot of blood. He'd been worried that she wouldn't wake up again. One of his friends had been hurt, had been  _shot_ , so he'd grown angry. Evidence of his temper was still laying against the wall on the other side of the wyvern with a rearranged face.

"Oi, dragon lady was shot so will this  _prowess_  help her to get better?" Luffy, simple-minded and clueless, and yet he still managed to voice what everyone had been secretly wondering at. She had been shot, not point blank, but in a spot that would've killed any normal human. Having your chest cavity and lungs hit with anything was life-threatening.

Rayleigh, to the surprise of everyone watching, nonchalantly leaned against the massive jowls of the knocked out dragon. There was not one bone of wariness in his pose, and Kid commented on this audacity, "You seem to be well-informed about these Wyvern Sisters, Dark King."

Rayleigh ignored how the Supernova had  _intentionally_ used his title when he'd told him not to in favor of replying, "Yes, well, they are very old friends. And over the years I've come to know quite a bit about them as you would expect. Hm, the chest wound I sensed earlier will heal, but severe injuries like this one will take time. But yes she will get better. Interestingly enough they are not blood sisters but best friends. Though they do share the same bright teal hair Liberty's dragon form is quite different from Jillian's."

Nami scowled at the old man, something coming up in her mind that led to confusion. "If that's true then why  _do_  they share the same hair and not the same…dragon body?" The Dark King tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. That was a good question. "Hm, that is most likely because their dragon forms have the same dominant color, that being teal. But I assure you both breeds are completely different."

Not one to leave anything left unsaid Nami doggedly persisted when Ray-san stopped talking. "And what breeds would those be?" No one was willing to stop her little interrogation if you could call it that. They too, were curious about what was being questioned.

Rayleigh sighed, smile turning rueful as he contemplated the question. He hoped the two slumbering girls around him wouldn't mind him saying these things. Though it was hopeless background information. "I guess it would be harmless to tell you youngsters. This one, Liberty," he pointed to the tall woman with short teal hair, "is called the Tri-horn Wyvern while Jillian's breed," he made a hand gesture to the slumbering beast he leaned on, "is called the Hellfire Wyvern. I do not know anymore and will say no more." warned Rayleigh, sweeping his gaze over all those present. He meant what he said.

Silence hung heavy for a time, filled with quiet ruminations on all the new information. For some it was just something mysterious being cleared up, for others it was a door of unlimited possibilities.

The teal claws on the Hellfire Wyvern's wing abruptly spasmed. This sudden movement was followed by an involuntary shudder from Liberty. The three pirate crew watched, gazes a lot more attentive, as the Wyvern Sisters slowly made it back to consciousness. Painstakingly, they both opened luminous dual colored eyes which seemed to just  _home in on_ Rayleigh.

" _Ray-san!_ "

" _Old goat!_ "

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If there was one thing about being a Gifted that sucked it was their vulnerability to haki. Yeah, it was cool and stuff but a blast of any kind bloody _hurt!_ Like rusty nails down a chalk board it ripped through their minds like serrated racks. Both their senses and their Synergy were shot to hell; they didn't know anything bad enough human-wise to equal it. A sledgehammer to the skull possibly? Migraine? Head cold? Who knows. And to top it off when a dragon was hit with haki their body saw fit to _immediately shut down_ in order to repair said damaged connection.

If a Gifted wasn't careful they could end up in a  _very bad_ situation. You never knew what was going on around you when you were stuck in restorative sleep. That's why when Jillian and Liberty woke up they were  _extremely happy_ tosee Silvers' Rayleigh standing in front of them with that ever present smile on his face. Over the past couple of decades the old goat had become a sort of father figure to the two marauding females. Sheltering them the best he could from those who'd have them captured and killed. They, it seemed, returned the favor in full as no one had gone after his head in over thirty years.

The Dark King looked up then, feeling the hot moist air of breath sear across his cheeks, to see the ridged nose and jaws of Sonneillon B. Jillian. He did not move as she lowered her great muzzle and gently, ever so gently, pressed it into his chest. He met the weary but fierce blue-teal gaze and grinned. A tan calloused hand came up to rest on the side of the snout, like a handshake the touch was firm, strong, speaking so many words that would never be voiced but were understood nevertheless.

A moment later Rayleigh felt a weight ram into his back in the form of a very merry Skulley J. Liberty. She instantly wrapped her arms him, hugging him from behind. He could visualize the large smile on her face even if he couldn't see it. He knew it was there regardless. The arms tightened and he heard the unmistakable sound of a happy laugh. Chuckling, Rayleigh raised his other hand and plopped it down on a head of short teal tresses.

Voice soft, "It's been quite a long time you two. Though I wished such a meeting would involve less stress. I am sorry for not giving a warning before I used my haki, I know how taxing it can be on your Mind Flow…"

Gawking, gaping, fallen jaws, and widened eyes littered the expressions of all three pirate crews. Two legends stood in front of them. Two legends who seemed to be caught up in an almost intimate embrace. No, nothing sexual. Rather the three  _literally_  sandwiched together gave off a strong sense of maternity. Like father and daughters.

They couldn't believe what they were seeing. Silvers' Rayleigh, the 'Dark King' and first mate to the Pirate King was embracing the  _Wyvern Sisters_ like they were his own flesh and blood.

The Heart, Kid, and Strawhat pirates watched flabbergasted as the three released each other, then seemed to drop into rabid-fire conversation. This conversation was not audible and that fact irritated the two captains from South Blue and North Blue. Both Kid and Law were of the same mind,  _find out as much as possible._

Just as they were about to do something a voice on a loudspeaker thundered through the building.

_"Criminals inside! Release the Roswald family! An admiral will be here shortly. Surrender and you will be shown mercy_ … _"_

They all paused. The marines had arrived.  _Oh no!_ Liberty rolled her eyes, voice sarcastic, "Yes, we're  _all_ just going to  _walk_  outside with our _hands to the sky_ and let them take us in.  _Hell no!_ Just no, no. Idiots!"

This slight spazz triggered some laughs and chuckles but the onset of tension remained. Trafalgar Law stood, stance relaxed and confident, a hand holding his nodachi to his shoulder with the other tucked into a pocket. His sharp eyes seemed to analyze the situation, taking in variables, and with a low chuckle an ironic smile stole over his face. "They're not just dragging us into this, they're even calling us Mugiwara's accomplices. They'll learn that _I_ don't take orders from  _anyone_." For a second, a  _split second_ something ugly crossed Law's expression before it was gone. Just like that. Swallowed by his cheshire cat smile.

Kid hadn't moved from his position by the door. With arms crossed, a sinister grin taking over, he looked ready for a massacre. Being so close to the front entrance he could hear the shouting of the marines as they surrounded the auction house. They were under the impression that a few hundred men could  _stop_ _ **him**_. How utterly  _pathetic_. He'd kill them all. Maybe it'd scare his two 'rivals' off too when they saw the carnage. Plus he wanted to leave before that admiral showed up. He had no aspirations in dying now. No, he still had a throne to take over.

With that thought he pushed off the wall and turned to walk out the door, only glancing back once to lock the image of the Tri-horn Wyvern, Liberty in his mind. He'd hunt her down later. His crew behind him he threw over his shoulder, "I'm leaving but as an extra favor I'll save all of you. So just sit tight."

The arrogant command, or maybe the whole sentence seemed to rub the two Supernova captains wrong. They whipped around to glare at the South Blue native, lips pulled into snarls of displeasure. Like a silent beckoning, a challenge, both Law and Luffy turned to stalk out after Kid.

Rayleigh shook his head at the antics of the younger generation before rounding on Jillian. She still lay awkwardly on her side, head uncomfortably bent against her shoulder. She'd been in that position for a long time. Though it was risky Jillian needed to change back into a human. Evading the marines as she was now would be suicidal.

"Ah, Chopper-san are you the doctor of the Strawhat crew?" questioned the old coater. Said reindeer jumped, squeaked, and stared at him with wide eyes. He hesitantly nodded. Rayleigh smiled kindly at the little devil fruit user. "It seems that I am in need of your assistance with Jillian. Will you be able to wrap her chest so that the wound won't get infected?" Chopper nodded again, blushing at the word  _chest_  before walking over hooves already bringing out a roll of bandages.

At hearing her name Jillian perked up, turning cautious eyes to Rayleigh. Liberty herself was wary of her best friend transforming so early. "Whoa, whoa Ray-san! It's _way_ to soon for Jill to turn back into a human! The wound probably isn't even closed yet! It could kill her!"

The Dark King didn't falter in his decision. Sauntering back over to Jillian's muzzle he locked eyes with his old friend. There was exhaustion and pain in her slit gaze but also trust. "C'mon old girl, change, and we'll help you with that injury."

Soft light bathed everyone's faces before disappearing; in its place was a pale ragged human Jillian. She lay on her side just as she'd done in her dragon form. A bloody hand was pressed to the puncture on her chest. It was removed when surprisingly warm hooves nudged them off and an even warmer body slowly, gingerly helped her to sit up. With a twitch of her nose she knew it was Rayleigh. Lib knelt down to help as well.

It was some time later that saw Jillian comfortably leaning against Rayleigh's shoulder an arm thrown over his neck to support some of her weight. Her entire torso was tightly bound in gauze, the bloodied shirt having been cut away and discarded. Thanks to Lib transforming an arm into a wing they had no peeping toms.

Jillian and Liberty tensed, slit eyes widening. The air…Its density was skyrocketing. It almost, _almost_ felt like static electricity but it was more refined, more under the radar so as to speak. The sensation of it breathed over their senses like a feathers caress. It was that light.

_What the hell is this,_  thought Jillian with an annoyed groan. Her chest ached and breathing was difficult. Beside her Lib was looking around, eyes searching for the source of the oddity. What she saw had her yelping in surprise. What they were sensing but  _not seeing_ was magnetism.

_Holy crap!_

The magnitude of it was powerful. Everything metal in the auction house was raising to its call. They hung in suspended animation for a second before shooting off like a swarm of bees for the door. Knives, swords, guns, belts, wristbands, rings; everything with an ounce of metal was being summoned.

Lib glanced over, eyes wide and awed, to Jillian who pretty much wore the same expression. They were soon roused out of their wonder by a resounding boom and the aftershock that came with it.

The loud crashing noise was like a  _come-hither_ to the pirate crews. They instantly began moving outside, this included Rayleigh and therefore Jillian and Liberty.

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A word to describe the sheer amount of wreckage; chaos. Absolute unadulterated chaos is what they came out to. Standing at the top of the stairs left Jillian and Liberty gaping at the destruction. Destruction caused by the three individuals posted confidently on the grass a few meters away.

It could only be inferred that all of them possessed a devil fruit of some sort. Liberty shuddered at that. Did all Supernova's have devil fruits?

The mass of crewmates halted at the bottom of the stairs, some commenting on the actions of their particular captain. This went ignored by Jillian who'd adopted a very presaged smile. She stared at Eustass "Captain" Kid, blue-teal eyes glinting slyly.  _Hmm_ …

Mischievous smirk twisting her features Jillian sent an elbow in Lib's side to get her attention. The telling curl of lips evened out into a calm expression when her best friend looked over.

Though Jillian's face was blank her voice held all the fiendish scheming behind it, "Hey, hey Lib!  _I dare you_ to  _try_  to flatten his hair." This taunt was met with loads of confused blinks and head tilting. A simple provoking glance over to the three captains had Lib squealing and generally making a spazz out of herself. The explosion of high-pitched squalling mixed in with strong repetitive denial had most of the three crews watching the scene between the two dragons. They were funny and were good entertainment.

"…What!  _What? Why_  would  _I do that?!_ Heck no!  _No_ , there is  _no way_ I'm going  _over there!_ No. I won't. Nope."

Jillian just continued smirking, eyes gleaming challengingly. "C'mon, you  _know_  you  _want_  to. Just  _look_  at it, standing up like flames. Like fire. Don't you wonder what his hair feels like? It has to be thick. I  _did_  see him glance at you once; I bet he'd let you touch it  _if you asked nicely_." There was one skill Jillian had perfected over the many centuries, the skill of provocative talking. She found it _hilarious_ to see what made Lib blow up like an overripe tomato. The squealing was just a bonus.

Liberty stared, eyes wide as saucers, cheeks completely red. If anyone bothered to look closely they could see the blush spread down her neck to disappear beneath her shirt. "Y-you! You! Are!  _Impossible!_ And he  _did not_ look at me once! There was _no_ glancing! Why don't  _you_  go up to _Law! See_  if  _his_  hair is thick!"

Jillian just shook her head, grin still in place, eyes glinting wickedly. "Now you're just avoiding it. Wow, is Skulley J. Liberty _really_ avoiding a dare?" The barb, or the entire statement had Liberty huffing angrily at Jillian, brown-teal eyes peeking at the tall figure of Eustass "Captain" Kid.  _He was really tall._

A moment of charged indecisive silence.

It was a known running gag that when one Gifted gave a 'dare' to another it had to be followed through. It proved you had the guts to be crazy, the mind to be wild, and enough heart to get over it. Or in Lib's case, get her revenge. She was aware of the dodge Jill had done when she'd brought up the hat wearing pirate captain.

A smug smile lighting her face, voice  _saturated_ with it she conceded, "Okay, fine. I'll do your dare but since  _you owe me_ for scaring me back there I'll give  _you_  a dare. It's only fair, right? _I dare you_ to take Law's hat off and run  _your hands_ though his hair. We'll see just how thick it is."

And thus the tables were turned.

Jillian may not be as expressive as her partner but Liberty could tell by the two dark spots of color high on her cheekbones that she was blushing for all she was worth. And considering the reward on their bounty posture that was quite a bit of worth. Jillian's plan of humiliation promptly fell on its face. She'd forgotten in her anticipation Liberty's newly made grudge against her. Which she didn't get at all.  _Meh, fine whatever. I'll do your pesky dare._

Then the actual dare registered in her brain. Her mind flat-lined, sputtered and crashed inside her skull. Hot guy with furry spotted hat. Law.  _Hell no!_ Jillian recoiled, face pale, teeth bared, "Fuck that! I'm not going near that guy. Yeah, he's hot but he also smells dangerous! And I follow my instincts!"

Lib rolled her eyes, "No, you're doing it.  _You owe me_ in case you've forgotten! I don't care if we have to  _stalk_  the guy! You're. Doing. The. Dare!"

The two Gifted glared at each other commencing a staring contest.

Tension abounded.

…

Mumbling dejectedly Jillian broke the gaze, sighing heavily. This caused her to flinch the movement tugging at her wound.  _Ow._  Liberty preened with triumph to the left of her, smiling broadly. It slipped off her face like loose paint when she remembered  _her dare_.  _Shit, fuck, fire! Shit, fuck, fire! Shitfuckfire! Oh shit! Just do it, don't even think! Just DO it!_

Hearing that mantra Lib bolted off down the stairs, flipping the bird at Jill when she reached the grass. The Heart, Kid, and Strawhat pirates watched with equal parts curiosity and bewilderment as one of the Wyvern Sisters executed a run and jump. Her target had the Kid pirates tensing, reaching for their weapons at the perceived threat.

It was a big shock to everyone when said wyvern sister did not move to attack but rather leaped on Eustass "Captain" Kid piggy-back style. If the three crews weren't taken aback from such a strange action they were when the woman started to rapidly comb back the Supernova's red spiky hair.

_What the hell is she doing?_ It was a collective thought among the pirates as they stared in growing disbelief.

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_I'm going to die.  
_

Liberty swore this dare would be the end of her. Who in their _right mind_ would  _run up_  to a  _pirate captain,_  leap on their back, just to see if their hair really was as gravity defying as it looked? Who!? Ugh, of course, Jillian would think up something like this.  _The devious lizard!_  But she'd get her revenge, and it would be  _glorious_.

All thanks to one Trafalgar Law.

Though she'd have to _live_ through her own dare first. Liberty clung to the Supernova, legs wrapped tightly around the mans well muscled waist, elbows supporting herself on a pair of very broad shoulders.  _Oh Spirits!_  With her hands pressing down repeatedly on the flame-like spikes she tried to ignore the fact that she was _flush against_  a  _very_  dangerous, _very_ attractive pirate captain. Damn, her cheeks were burning, searing,  _melting_ off her face. She could  _feel_  it. Swallowing thickly she focused back on her dare; the reason she was in this situation in the first place.  _Flatten his hair, just flatten his hair then you can jump off and go die of a nosebleed behind a tree. Simple and easy._

Tongue-in-cheek Lib started diligently working at  _attempting_  to tame the wildly standing hair of Eustass "Captain" Kid. Idly, she marveled at the locks running through her fingers, they were surprisingly soft. Looks could definitely be deceiving if his hair was anything to go by. From a distance people would think Kid's hair stood up as it did because it was thick and stiff. While they were correct about it being thick it was neither rough nor coarse seeming. Lib found she liked running her fingers through it.

Not that she'd tell anyone that. Especially, Jillian.

Brows furrowing Liberty let out a growl of frustration. The stubborn stuff just _would not_ stay down. It was like playing a game of whack-a-mole just with vibrant vermilion hair. She instantly froze when a deep chuckle met her ears, and being so close body-wise enabled her to feel the vibration of it shake through Kid's chest. It had Liberty very, very close to spazzing.  _Just ignore him. Just ignore him!_

The weight of a - a very hot! - hand landing on her calf made it impossible. Body jerking at the unexpected touch Lib let loose a strangled squeal. Her backwards movement halted by the grip on her leg that tightened warningly. When she settled down, leaning against the back and shoulders of the Supernova the bruising grip relaxed. Chest heaving, Liberty retracted her hands from the pirates hair, using them to clasp the wide shoulders so she wouldn't have to fully lean her torso on him.

This was horrible! She'd never been _this close_ to a man before, much less a human man. It was embarrassing, surreal, and really, really scary! Lib swallowed, brown-teal eyes looking off to the side. She could feel her heart beating at her ribcage, could hear it in her ears too. She yelped when she felt that hand - _large warm hand!_  - shift over her calf. It didn't matter that her skin was covered by jeans. She could still feel the weight, the heat of the palm pressing against her.

Liberty blanched, body stiffening.  _Shit, fuck, fire! Shit Fuck Fire! ShitFuckFire!_ _ **ShitFuckFire!**_

_Oh Spirits!_  The hand was…was  _rubbing_  her! This  _could not_ be happening! Cheeks nearly cramping from blushing so hard Lib did what any spazz in her situation would do; she hid her face in the collar of fur attached to the captain's coat. Tried to, at least.

Before she could successfully bury her face in the maroon fur a pale cheek appeared in her line of sight. Too late she looked up and froze stiff. Eustass "Captain" Kid was staring at her through one of his dark red eyes. Time froze to a stop under the intensity of his gaze and Lib wasn't immune to its effect. There was something dark and predacious about his stare. The power behind it pinned her, locked her down, held her captive; she felt like she couldn't move, couldn't  _breathe_.

Liberty wondered, somewhere deep in her mind, if _this_ was why Jillian didn't like meeting anyone's eyes. The crimson stare grew heated then, a satisfied quality darkening the gaze. When Liberty had enough presence of mind to break the lock her eyes evidently fell on other visible facial feature. Kid's smug, smirking lips. Lips that were too close for any comfort whatsoever.

Skulley J. Liberty gasped, jerking back abruptly, hands shoving hard against broad shoulders. In full on freak mode Lib transformed her arms into her wings, flapping them madly to propel herself backward. The webbed appendages gave her the leverage she needed to pull out of the Supernova's lax grip and get away from him. She landed with an ungraceful thud by the stairs, breathing hard and lightly shaking.

No one moved or made a sound at the sudden getaway. The crewmates continued to stare dumbfounded at what they'd just witnessed; the three captains remained in their self-imposed formation. Until loud laughter shot the silence dead.

Loud,  _hysterical_  laughter coming from a certain Hellfire Wyvern.

This show of hilarity invoked a verbal bitch fight of monstrous proportions. Everyone present surely entertained by the vicious back-in-forth between the two best friends. They were even more entertained when they learned about the  _dare_.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Eustass "Captain" Kid smirked at the utter  _destruction_ in front of him. The marines and their formation had been broken, their forces either dead or scattered. It gave him a sick satisfaction that twisted his smirk into a demented glasgow smile. This… _this_ is what he lived for; seeing his enemies at his feet, bleeding out and defeated. Beaten down. Weak. With him standing over them. Dark triumph seared through his veins like a noxious drug.

Nevermind the two Supernova's flanking him. Though, he  _had_  to admit (reluctantly) that their abilities and ruthlessness earned them some smidgen of respect from him. Nonetheless it left a sour taste in his mouth.  _He_  was going to be King of the Pirates. Not them.

Sneering at the absurdity of such a notion Kid was about to yell for his crew when the unmistakable sound of someone  _sprinting_  hit his ears. His mind registered the noise half a second before a  _soft something_ collided with his back. Body tensing at the possible threat, dark lips pulling into a nasty snarl, Kid began reaching for his dagger.

He stopped dead when he felt well toned legs wrap around his waist and the sensation of hands gently touching his hair. The unexpected action had Kid relaxing into the strange embrace, even leaning into the body plastered against his back. It was a woman…

A woman was currently wrapped around him and combing his hair.  _Wrong side, bitch._

While a part of him relished in being so close to a woman after being at sea for so long, another darker part of him gnashed its teeth at the sheer audacity of the faceless female.  _Who the fuck does she think she is!_

Did this girl, this woman have a death-wish? Kid didn't feel threatened by the presence gripping his shoulders but it was a source of irritation partially overtaken by curiosity. Of course, the irritation took precedence over the curiosity, so he grabbed one of the legs intending to throw the bitch off. He got as far as wrapping his hand around the calf when he noticed the pant color covering said legs.

Red corduroys.

The violent Wyvern Sister.

The one who'd eventually be joining his crew. Kid felt a devilish grin stretch his face, his grip loosening. Some of that curiosity came slinking back and he indulged it, his hand moving over the limb. Touch light and caressing. The surprised squeak from behind his head had him nearly chortling in laughter. But when he felt the body tense, muscles in the belly and thighs tightening, he snarled. Immediately his hand clenched around the limb, locking it in place. She was going  _nowhere_.

The quiet whine that breathed over his ears had Kid shifting imperceptibly. Having that body, that soft feminine body settle against him was even better. A rapacious grin curled his lips. She was uncomfortable if the way she was trying to lean away from him was any evidence. The grin widened. He wanted to see her face, see how flushed it was. The helpless wide-eyed expression. He wanted to  _see_  it.

Kid turned his head, the iris of one eye locking with shocked brown-teal. He'd never been this close to any of the Wyvern Sisters before. But being this close he could really study just how different their eyes were. It was a moment of curious study for the Supernova. The pupil was slit like a reptiles with a ring of unnatural color, teal, surrounding it. A look closer proved that it did, in fact, really glow. It was a soft subtle illumination, one seen more by the peripheral than head-on. The outer color was normal, a brown with hints of honey and emerald.

Kid decided he liked her strange, dual colored eyes. The fact that they were currently wide and horrified had him liking them all the more. Then they fell and he couldn't -  _didn't want to_  - stop the insidious grin when it hit him that she was staring at his lips.

_Like what you see, bitch?_ He would have said it if the wench hadn't ripped herself away from him using those damn wings of hers. But that was okay because he'd be going after her soon enough. With that thought he called for his crew, said one last ultimatum to his rival Supernova's, and left.

He didn't look back. He'd be seeing  _Liberty_  again anyway.


	5. Disturbia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Again I do not own One Piece or the song. But I do own my OC's. Mine. So no stealing. This chapter is a long one. Lots of shit hits the fan here.

_"Well, if they're making it,_

_Then they're pushing it,_

_They're leading us along._

_The hassle of,_

_All the screaming fits,_

_The panic makes,_

_Romorse!"_

**Vitamin R by Chevelle.**

Everyone was leaving, dispersing like spooked birds. Crews moved quickly to catch up to their captains, namely the Kid pirates. With the marines in such disarray it was prime time to jump ship and disappear. No one wanted to stick around for an admiral. Not if they wanted to live to see another day. Only the two Gifted remained still, eyes slinging fireballs at the other. They were interrupted from their silent pissing contest by the voice of Rayleigh, "I will be taking the Strawhats to Shakky's, mind giving this old coater some old company? Or do you have other matters to attend to?"

The invitation appeared to make Jillian extremely happy. But the decision (chance to escape) was ripped from her hands like fine sand in the wind. Liberty, glaring at the innocent look being sent her way by her best friend huffed out, "Sorry, Ray-san but Jill here has some _unfinished business_ with a certain Supernova. We'd go but a dare needs doing and I want my revenge."

Rayleigh released a loud laugh at the utter dismay painting Jillian's expression. These two never ceased to amaze him with their playful banter. It never failed to coax a laugh or two out of him. He just hoped Jillian was sturdy enough to walk around without falling over. She'd been leaning most of her weight on him after all.

"Will you be fine by yourself Jillian? That wound even _if_ bound still looks like it pains you." inquired the Dark King softly, eyes sympathetic. This  _was_  the first time he'd seen one of them grievously injured. It was worrisome. As dragons he'd seen scrapes and even a few flesh wounds but never anything life-threatening. Now as humans one of them gets a serious injury. As old as Jillian and Liberty were they still held an innocence when it came to the world of humans. So the only question was…

Were they ready to take on his world, not as wyverns, but as two human women? Rayleigh grew wary when he couldn't come up with an immediate answer. Yet, he knew warning them would do nothing. They were too proud, too headstrong for such suggestions. Stubborn to a fault they marched to the beat of their own making.

"…e okay, old goat. Remember what I am, even if I  _look_  like a human right now, I'm not. And I got Lib so we'll be fine." Jillian's solemn voice had the old ex-pirate coming back to himself. Both he and Liberty watched closely as Jillian slowly, achingly took her own weight. Standing by herself brought on a new wave of nausea and pain which easily showed in the shadows of her face. For someone who didn't know Jillian well her expression would have appeared tense and not weary.

And Jillian  _was_  weary. Pained and exhausted all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere secure and sleep for a hundred years. A certain _annoying_ Tri-horn was being uncooperative.  _Again with this revenge! Ugh!_

" _OI! OLD MAN! ARE YOU COMING! I'M HUNGRY!_ "

Luffy's voice even over long distances was still thunderous. It had them all staring, faces set in varying degrees of startlement and exasperation. Rayleigh stepped away from the two Gifted before glancing over his shoulder, a smile of a thousand words on his face. He did not say anything as he walked away, the smile having said all the words he needed to.

Lib and Jill watched him go silently, one radiating agitated dread the other content smugness. Liberty knew all too well what Jillian had been up to when Ray-san had offered them the invitation. " _So_ , whose  _avoiding_  who now?" quipped Liberty saucily. Her only answer was a scoff; it made her smile. Jill might be injured but it was still her best friend under all those bandages.

She looked funny with just gauze covering her chest. "Hey, are you wearing your bra under that?" The unexpected question had Jillian staring at her flatly, face completely deadpan.

She never got the chance to answer. A sudden hail of bullets had their instincts kicking into overdrive and their adrenaline pumping. The marines had called for backup. To dodge the attack they dropped and rolled, launching themselves into a sprint when they had enough momentum.

What they ran into was utter chaos. "What the _hell_ was _going on_ while we were talking to Ray-san?!" yelled Liberty wildly. Jillian absconded a little ways behind her, pace smooth. The only thing that alluded to her being injured was her harsh breathing and the snarl twisting her face. "If the…scent is right…then the Heart…pirates were the last…ones here.  _Damn it!_ " If they didn't have heightened hearing that second round of bullets would've made them into Swiss cheese. It definitely made them mad though. One had gotten lucky in clipping Liberty's bicep. The blood dripping down the limb was warm.

Lib ignored it in favor of spitting, "Where the hell are we running to?" It was amazing what pain and anger could manifest into; two very brassed off females. "How the fuck am I supposed to _–_ Wait, follow that giant!"

Liberty cast a hasty glance over her shoulder at Jillian to see where she was looking.  _Right._ Looking in said direction had her eyes expanding, "A giant! Holy shit! Where the heck did he come from?  _Hey_ , look it's that bear!  _Orange!_ "

"Lib follow…the damn giant!" Jillian gasped, holding a hand to her aching chest. It was really starting to hurt.

So they changed course, turning on their heel and bolting right towards a bridge. The giant and the bear were running across it. They had a hill to run down before they reached the same bridge, hopefully they would be able to outrun the marines trying to shoot them. Dodging bullets was getting to be a nuisance, and it was tiring.

**_Wham, crash!_ **

Lib and Jill yelped at the loud assault on their ears, eyes going wide when they saw the giant  _punch_  through the bridge like it was nothing. A second later Jillian paled.  _Shit!_ She could not transform as she was now. Her body was still too damaged to perform perfect synergy. "Fuck! Lib, I can't change!" cursed the panting Hellfire Wyvern.

Still running, voice breathy from exertion Liberty replied, "Well, I'll just have to carry you over! When I jump grab onto my feet, okay!" Jillian gave a curt nod, feet still taking her closer to the smashed bridge. This was  _not_  going to be fun. Hanging her body weight on her arms would irritate her injury; there would be no escaping the pain. It was already slowing her down. In Jillian's mind that was unacceptable.

She did it anyway. It was the only conceivable option. Tightening her resolve and her jaw Jillian watched Lib leap off the edge of the broken arch. Before gravity could pull her down she partially transformed. Arms changed to black and white wings tipped with teal spikes and her feet turned to claws. Claws which Jillian grabbed on for dear life. She could not hold back the strained groan when her weight dragged at her arms. _Stupid fucking bullet wound! Heal already!_

She couldn't remember the last time she was actually  _happy_  to be on solid ground again. "Re-remind…me to…n-never do that…again!" Jillian forced through clenched teeth when they'd landed, fangs bared in a painful grimace. She could feel her body spasm with the pain, it was not a pleasant sensation.

"At least we got over. And none of those stupid marines can follow! Ha!" cheered Liberty happily while giving a fist-pump. No marines meant a very happy Lib. Now all they had to do was find the Heart pirates. Lib lifted her nose slightly, taking a whiff of air.

… _Aha! Got you!_  She promptly began walking towards a ridge off to the far right. The path lead into the giant mangroves. Now that they could walk Jill's breathing was beginning to slow down. That was good, Lib had been worried that a lung would burst with how hard her friend had been breathing.

When they reached the top of the ridge and looked down they were able to see the Heart pirates and their hat wearing captain enter a clearing. They immediately jogged down the ridge after them.

Sonneillon B. Jillian was sick of running. She possessed a very high pain threshold but if her body, her human body didn't get the rest it needed to properly heal it was going to shut down. And with how tense things were getting on Sabaody Archipelago unnecessarily aggravating her wound was tempting fate.

Breathing loud and hoarse from the run down the ridge Jillian bent over to grab her knees. They'd made it into the clearing; the scents flooding her nostrils were strong meaning the Heart pirates were close by. In normal circumstances this would've had her shaking with anxiety and dread but it wasn't. The dare was the furthest thing on her mind at that point.

The fangs of agony were sinking in, injecting their bitter poison into her veins. It spread from her chest, slowly crawling up her throat to her brain. The trail it left had her body burning, her breath hitching. Mind hazy and mouth dry Jillian could feel herself sway, tilt dangerously to the side. A bolt of searing pain ricochet up her ribs, her eyes blurred at the intensity of it.

Her knees buckled.

The new flash of pain pulsing in her knees was just another ache she had to contend with. It was with faint coherence that Jillian recognized the scent of her best friend, the hand on her shoulder only proved this fact. She could feel the heat to her kneeling beside her. Under the pounding of her ears she could Liberty speaking to her but the words were muffled and distant.

One thing she  _could_  understand was the tone of urgency. Jillian's brows furrowed.

_What was she worried about?_

They'd caught up with the Heart pirates hadn't they? Once this God awful pain passed she'd dredge up enough guts to do her dare without losing it. So what was wrong?

Another voice floated into her ears. This one was deeper, more masculine with a smooth glide to it that had Jillian melting and going defensive all at once. She didn't like it; hearing it, the husky quality echoing in her ears, had her stomach clenching for a reason beyond her comprehension. And with so much pain clouding her mind her capacity for understanding was at an all time low.

It was pure instinct that had her recoiling from that voice. And Jillian listened to her instinct more than anything. Whoever owned that voice needed to stay away from her and vice versa.

There was a lull in the anguish and she was given a moment of relief. Idly, while sitting on her hands and knees, she decided she never wanted to get shot in the chest again. If this is what she had to go through for being a good samari—

The shrill shriek of terror jerked her from her thoughts in time to see the oncoming light.

Just before impact her mind registered slamming against something.

Something hard.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Liberty had anticipated it. Being a skilled toxicologist had given her prior knowledge of just  _how_  much stress a human body could take before collapsing. And Jillian was nearing her limit. That's why she wasn't surprised to see her best friend go down when they'd found the Heart pirates. They might be nigh invincible as dragons but while traversing around in their human bodies they were twice as vulnerable. And Jill was only proof of that vulnerability.

Concern shining in brown-teal eyes Lib knelt next to the badly shaking form of her best friend. That concern deepened when she didn't seem to notice or acknowledge the hand she'd placed on her back. Was the pain so bad that it ripped all awareness away? Liberty felt her heart clench when she leaned down to see Jill's face.

She was sweating.

Jillian never sweated. Never. But what disturbed Liberty even more were the pair of dull eyes that were usually bright and intense. The voice of Trafalgar Law had her jumping up, eyes wide. It had sounded  _entirely_   _too close_. She whipped her head to the side and blinked.

"Huh?"

It was under that stare, that cold analytical stare that Lib felt insignificant for the first time in her life. It was different from Kid's. In his gaze lurked a sort of primal rage tempered by steely intellect. A literal ticking time bomb. The grey eyes of Trafalgar Law were those of a sleek predator. There was a darkness to his gaze, an unfathomable gulf hiding a cunning mind.

And his eyes  _burned_. Absolutely burned with possessiveness.

It was only then that she realized he was staring at Jillian.

Liberty felt her stomach churn sickly.

"I asked if Miss Jillian was given any anesthetics before the injury was bandaged."

Liberty wanted to ignore the Supernova, to flip him the bird, and tell him to stay the _fuck away_ from her best friend but she knew better. The growing impatience in his voice warned her not to mess with the man. Even if it had her gnashing her teeth in revulsion she answered him.

"Yes, she was." Simple and curt. Just how Lib liked it with people she didn't like. And she was beginning to not like this man.

Thankfully no more was said between them, Liberty had no words for such an unnerving human. Yeah, he was hot but a pretty face accounted for nothing when one was heartless. That's exactly what Law was; heartless. His eyes were heartless. Dark, greedy, possessive, all of the above!

An unfamiliar voice had her looking up along with everyone else.

" _Trafalgar Law, bounty: 200,000,000_."

Said captain tensed, gripping his nodachi tightly. His stance was deceptive, appearing relaxed when really he was waiting.

Waiting and ready.

Liberty's eyes widened. Was that…was that Bartholomew Kuma!

The Shichibukai's mouth opened again, but no words came out.

Lib barely had enough time to let out a scream and lunge off the ridge before it exploded. She landed right behind where the Kid pirates were currently posted, weapons all out. For a moment she sat there, stunned and shaken. Sheer terror receding slowly she abruptly cried out;  _Jill_  had been on her knees, she wouldn't have seen such a rapid attack coming. Nor would she have been able to move to dodge it.

_Oh Spirits! Oh Spirits! Oh Spirits!_ _  
_

_Jill!_

Frantic with fear and anxiety she searched the cloud of thick dust that was thrown up from the attack. She couldn't see  _anything!_ It only made her freak out more.

A snide voice momentarily distracted her from her panic, "Oi, Trafalgar. You're in my way." It was Kid. But where was Law?

Then she saw the silhouette of someone walking toward Kid in the dust cloud. It was…Law. He was unscathed. How the hell had he dodged that attack without acquiring some form of injury? She could already feel the bruises. Not to mention the second degree burn on her arm.

_Wait._

Liberty looked closer at Law before she went completely pale.

_Oh my Spirits!_

Law was holding Jillian.

Law had  _saved_  Jillian.

_Shit, fuck, fire!_

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Jillian returned to consciousness sluggishly. Some part of her brain wondered when she'd blacked out in the first place. She hadn't succumbed to the pain of her injury; it had been slowly receding after its flare-up. So what had caused it?

… _A scream._

… _A masculine_ … _voice_.

… _Something_ … _hard._

_Hard?_

Remembrance came like lightning. There had been a light. A  _dangerous_  light she could not evade. Someone had grabbed her. Saved her.  _Who?_

It wasn't Lib, she was certain of that. Her nose never lied; her best friend didn't smell like…warm spice and…electricity?

_Huh?_

Jillian grew confused because she didn't _know anyone_ who smelled so…so  _intoxicating_. She didn't care to wake up, her body felt like crap, but she'd face anything if only to smell more of this scent. It was both soothing and sharp in its fragrance. The way it coalesced in her nostrils like stormclouds before permeating her mind nearly had her feeling  _drunk_.

Inhaling softly Jillian opened her eyes, woke up, and was promptly bitch slapped by reality. Sound came roaring back with a vengeance and her senses reignited with a flourish. There were three things she noticed immediately.

One, someone was gripping her hip and lower back.

Two, her front was plastered to what felt like soft Polyester.

Three, she was staring at tan skin.

Jillian swallowed very slowly, her gut twisting with nerves. Lib's skin tone wasn't the color of rich mocha.  _Please, no! Spirits, please no!_ Though her senses were awake everything but her faculty of touch and sight was muffled. She could vaguely hear shouting, crashes, and other strange noises. But they didn't register as anything important. The odd heat burning into her back took more of a priority. It felt like hot steel was wrapped around her waist, pressing against thin gauze. A weight, a vice, held her by the dip of her hipbone.

It was a  _hand_. She could feel the fingers, too masculine in length to be Liberty's. They gripped her firmly and pushed her against what she knew to be a chest. A  _male_  chest. Something flipped uncomfortably in her stomach. Her face reddened; oh Spirits, she was being held by a man! A fucking  _man!_

It wasn't the fact that her hands were clenched around suspiciously  _familiar_ clothing; no, what was  _damning_ was that she'd been  _nuzzling_  the strange tan skin. Strange tan skin that belonged to a neck. She had  _her face buried_ in someones  _neck_. God, whoever was holding her needed to set her down so she could go hide under a rock. This was embarrassing.

_Nuzzling! Gah! I do not nuzzle!_

Now she knew why the scent was so overwhelming. The neck was where scent was strongest. And to any Gifted it was a  _very_  sensitive spot.

Jillian furrowed her brow. There was something white in her peripheral vision. It had been there, unmoving, for a while. Her head turned, mind noting faintly that whoever was holding her had nice lean shoulders. She could feel the muscles quivering under her chin. Jillian stared. She stared and stopped breathing.  _No_ …

Brown.

Brown on white.

Spots.

Hat. Fur.

Her mind computed the sight of a furry spotted hat like quicksilver and promptly dived off the deep end. She groaned at the unfairness of it all. One part of her mind wanted to denial it; say some random stranger was the one to hold her so intimately and not _him_. Anything but  _him_. Jillian paled…and abruptly squealed like a stuck pig.

_Hell no! Why! Why me!_

The low husky chuckle that caressed her ear had her reeling out of her grogginess. Jillian ripped her head away from the Dark Doctor's shoulder, blue-teal eyes wide and shell-shocked. The jerky movement did not upset the grip the Supernova had around her waist. It was tight and unyielding. There was something distinctly… _possessive_  in the way Law held her.

It had her hands fisting in the material of his hoodie.  _She belonged to no one!_ Fury. Pure unadulterated _fury_ pulsed through her veins. Just the thought of what he was conveying silently drained away the panic and gave her the strength to meet the gaze of the  _Surgeon of Death._

Jillian almost,  _almost_  faltered when she locked eyes with the cool piercing stare of Trafalgar Law. Grey. His eyes were grey and so very cold. Like frigid ice chips. Jillian had to choke back the gasp at the intensity, the sheer  _focus_  he was staring at her with. Her body went stiff as a board in response. She wanted to look away from him but that would be admitting weakness. And Sonneillon B. Jillian was  _not_  weak. This was exactly why she didn't like meeting the eyes of others. It left her feeling too exposed, like they could see everything, every secret, every scar. Everything. It was just too _intimate_. And she knew nothing of intimacy. Not truly. Not when it involved a man. And Law was too close. Way too close.

Jillian rebelled against the proximity, self-conscious and angry, the instinct to flee gripped her. The hands against his chest actively started pushing at him. She noted fleetingly that his pectorals were well toned and well muscled.  _Don't think that!_

That particular thought proved to be the last straw and with a hiss Jillian spat, "Let me go!"

Those grey eyes darkened, narrowed, became stormy and jagged. The bloodcurdling smile on his face thinned, became razor-sharp. She swallowed dryly at the calm, warning tone he spoke with. No doubt he felt the shiver go down her spine.

"You'll find that I don't take orders well Miss Jillian." Her name on his lips was like the crack of a whip, quick and painful.  _He knew her name!_  She flinched; that voice, she'd heard it before. It swam in her memories. Like velvet it washed over her cold and smooth. She didn't like it; how easily this man could steal away her control, her balance. This man…She did not know how to deal with this man.

_Get away! Get away, damn it!_

Legs tensing she started kicking them, struggling against him. Law didn't seem all that bothered with her flailing as he let her slide down his body until her feet hit the ground. Not one kick had landed but she was on her feet now.  _Even ground._  Jillian  _almost_  started regretting it; she had to look  _up_  to glare at him.  _Damn being so short! Damn it!_

But this is exactly what Law wanted. _Her_ looking  _up_  at  _him_. The subtle show of dominance was like a beacon of focus for her anger. A lightning rod. Fuck being scared of this man, she was submissive to no one. But the Dark Doctor was anticipating the escape attempt; his arm tightened, pulling her flush against him. It had Jillian going red in the face again but a sudden  _bright interruption_ stole the breath of defiance from her lips.

It also had her facing that muffled reality.

And  _screaming._

Screaming because Law had suddenly  _moved._ Jillian was thrown against his chest, chin connecting painfully with his collarbone. But it didn't stop her from screaming for all she was worth. The sound of the  _blast_ , for that was the only thing it could be, nearly had her ears bleeding. It was terrible and deafening. All she could do was lean on Law, burrow her face into his chest and hope the heat, the furious pressure of it would stop. Her life was so fucked up. Here she was pressed up against _her target_ in the middle of a beat-down and she couldn't even  _do her dare_.

Clearly someone was attacking them. Trying to  _kill them_. That blast  _had_  been meant to obliterate and destroy.

_Obliterate and destroy._

All her anger for Law evaporated. Replaced by the realization that she was on a  _battlefield_ , that the shouts and grunts bombarding her sore ears meant there was an  _enemy_  around. Fighting. People were fighting and  _she wasn't._

Dead weight. She felt like  _useless dead weight_. Law was lugging her around like a sack of rice. He was dodging, on the defensive. While she thought him wholly  _irritating_  for holding her so close she didn't want to see him killed. Jillian cursed that she was injured. She couldn't transform, couldn't _help_. It sucked having a hole through your chest.

The second realization was worse.

Liberty.

Where was Liberty?

Wild concern spread through her veins, had her adrenaline pounding. She needed to find Lib. "Where is my friend, Trafalgar? Where is  _Liberty!_ " her voice came out raspy and hysterical. She got no answer from the Supernova. With an impatient growl Jillian tilted her head back to face the asshole.  _How dare he ignore her!_  He wasn't looking at her. Didn't even seem to be paying her any attention. His gaze was trained on something behind her.

… _Battlefield_ …

He was watching the enemy. No wonder he couldn't listen to her, he was busy evading those deadly beams of condensed energy.

Well, she'd just have to go find her best friend on her own then. Restricting arms be damned.  _Law_  be damned. She was like the wind, it could not be owned or corralled. Blue-teal eyes narrowed at the grinning Jolly Roger on the chest of Law's hoodie. She had hoped to only use her secret style as a last resort but he was giving her no choice. She'd have to use Dim Mak.

With a glance to see if he was looking Jillian lowered a hand from its position on the Dark Doctors chest and swiftly jabbed a knuckle into the Radial nerve of his arm. The effect was instantaneous. She heard the hiss of breath above her but that didn't stop her from shoving away from Law. She'd hit the Radial pressure point hard enough to have his arm falling limply by his side. He wouldn't be grabbing her anytime soon. Not if he wanted to keep holding his prized nodachi.

Jillian sent Law an obstinate smirk over her shoulder before joining the fray. She studiously ignored the potent stare of displeasure he watched her with as she ran straight into hell. And it  _was hell_ , the clearing she'd glimpsed prior to losing consciousness was now wrecked beyond measure. Gashes and scorch marks dominated the area. The amount of rubble and debris lying around was shocking. It didn't even look like a clearing anymore.

How long had Law been holding her?

_Too long!_

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

Bartholomew Kuma.

The Kid and Heart pirates were up against  _Bartholomew Kuma_.

One of the seven Warlords of the Sea.

_They wouldn't survive._

Since escaping the grip of Trafalgar Law Jillian has taken note of several things. One of them being that Eustass "Captain" Kid had been the cause of the magnetized weapons in the auction house. Jillian tried not to stare at the massive arms of constructed metal. They acted just like his own pair.  _He was a devil fruit user._ Another thing was the orange clad bear; he really knew how to throw-down. She'd have to watch him closely, he was on  _Law's_  crew. And anything having to do with  _that man_ was quickly becoming intolerable. The man himself was intolerable.

The last and most notable thing was Liberty herself. She hadn't seen Jillian yet because she was fighting along the first mate of the Kid pirates. They were both going at the warlord. Liberty had her two Dirks out in a reverse grip, stance low for more balance and maneuverability.

Jillian drew a long breath through her nose, smelling scents, checking for blood. There wasn't enough in the air to suggest serious injury.  _Thank God._ But everyone definitely had plenty of scrapes and lacerations.

It was a good thing her chest wasn't throbbing horrendously. Concentration was key for a battle like this; she could not have pain clouding her senses. Not paying attention was a sure-fire way to get yourself killed in  _any_  fight. And if she wasn't careful she'd end up bringing Liberty down with her.

That is why Jillian ignored the urge to call out to her partner-in-crime. Fighting as she was any distraction on her part could prove fatal. So she stayed quiet, on the edge of the battlefield, and observed. If it was anything Sonneillon B. Jillian was a master at it was observing. Reading people, finding their weaknesses, and exploiting them was a skill she'd honed over the centuries.

And she applied that skill now. Being wounded meant no close range fighting for her. As much as it rankled against her pride Jillian was sensible enough to know when it was futile to interpose.

She watched…and immediately sensed that something was wrong. It had niggled persistently at the back of her mind ever since she'd first laid eyes on Bartholomew Kuma. Jillian had never met the warlord but knew vaguely about his power. He was one of those rare devil fruit users.

Blue-teal eyes narrowed. Scrutinizing. Vigilant.

Nostrils flared delicately.

Lips frowned.

_Wha-what was this? What was she smelling?_

Bartholomew Kuma smelled of steel, oil, and hydraulic fluid. He smelled like a machine…

_The hell? But isn't Kuma human? This doesn't make any sense!_

Jillian stared at the warlord intently, confused brain noting listlessly that Law had joined the fight.

Something didn't add up. If the warlord was human did that mean  _this Kuma_ was a fake?

He sure as hell didn't  _smell_ human, thought Jillian with a scowl. What with all those laser beams coming out of his mouth and hands. The only being she knew who could produce such dangerous energy was that ugly bastard Kizaru. And Bartholomew Kuma wasn't that ugly. Well, his imposter anyway.

She had to tell Lib. She also had to be extremely careful when getting her attention. Dodging one of those beams seemed hard enough for the two pirate crews and they weren't heavily injured. While she could use Dragon Speed it would strain her Synergy more than it already was. And she was still getting dizzy fits here and there from Rayleigh's Haki blast. Damn stuff would have her insides up in knots for days. Haki, it was a real pain in the ass.

Jillian stiffened, ears perking at hearing a loud shout. It had been Kid. The pirate captain was locked in a dual of power it seemed. Metal arm outstretched he shoved it right at the beam of deathly light coming straight for him. Though she couldn't see his expression Jillian got the feeling he was grinning insanely, red eyes crazed with battle-lust.  _Crazy bastard! He's gonna get himself killed pulling shit like that!_

Indeed it was a reckless move, but the captain was taking it in stride as with an unseen push of magnetism he sent the metal under his control cleaving through the attack. Eyes widening Jillian dropped to the ground just before a shockwave of heated air pulsed through the clearing.

Super heated metal and pure energy was combustible if that explosion was anything to go by.

Even cursing such a wild offense Jillian saw the opportunity it presented.  _Distraction, distraction! Go! Go! Go!_

Jumping to her feet she hit the ground running; there was no time to lose. Her chest constricted miserably at the pace she'd set but adrenaline was helping to stave off the crippling pain. She would not fall to her knees again. She  _refused_.

Lungs burning from exertion Jillian ran past silhouettes in the cloud of smoke and dust. She ignored them all, gaze pinned to the last place she'd seen Liberty. Her best friend had been off to the left of Kid and by a strange pale man with blue dreadlocks and wicked thorn tattoos.

"LIB!" the name seemed to be swallowed by the dissipating smoke. It only made her more determined to find Lib. "Meh!" If Liberty was within hearing range she'd sound back.

Nothing.

"MEH!" Jillian called louder, forcing her voice to travel further. Impatiently, she cocked her head to the side to listen.

…

Then she heard it. A very faint echo. Jillian whipped her head side to side attempting to pin point the distant voice.

"… _h_."

"… _eh!_ "

"… _Meh!_ "

It slowly grew audible the more she ran until she-

Ran right smack into someone.

Due to visibility being _zero_ said someone immediately reacted by swinging a very  _familiar_ dirk at her  _head_. Good thing Jillian was flexible because it had just saved her life. There were perks in being able to bend over backwards. Dodging knives was just one of them. Knive _s_ because there were two and the second one was flying for her bandaged chest like a bee to honey.

_Oh Fuck!_

With a cry Jillian shifted her weight to her hands and threw up a leg, the sole of her boot catching the blade of the knife in the downward thrust. The force of the kick had the wielder gasping before ripping the weapon away. A moment later a hesitant voice met her ears, "Jill? Is that you?"

The unsure question had all Jillian's emotions  _exploding._

" _Of course its me you dumbass! Who else_ would be running around in this shit  _yelling_  'meh' at the top of their lungs?  _What the hell_ were you  _doing!_  Do I  _look_  like the enemy to you! Huh?  _Do I?_ God, my chest is fucking hurting now! Ugh! What the fuck, Lib!"

By the end of Jill's angry tirade the cloud of obscurity had settled and the form of Skulley J. Liberty was visible. A very shocked, very bedraggled Skulley J. Liberty. Wide brown-teal eyes stared dazedly for a second before she came back to her senses and promptly launched herself at Jill.

The Hellfire Wyvern never saw it coming. Adrenaline and instinct were no match for a relieved and shaken Liberty. There was no time for Jillian to avoid the hug. So she stood there best friend literally  _wrapped around her_  and scowled dourly.

Voice bored and slightly annoyed, "Are you  _done_  irritating me? We are still in the middle of a battle as you can see; hugs aren't allowed. Let go." The grouchy statement was met with a happy squeal. Or was it a giggle?  _Who the hell knows!_

Liberty relinquished her grip and stepped back a happy smile gracing her bruised and dirty face. They both probably looked like shit. With all the explosions going off each one showering everyone in the clearing with another layer of crud  _no one_ looked pretty.

"Sorry, geez. You know how I get when I can't see stuff."

Jillian shook her head, expression grim and agitated. " _Yeah_ , I do. You scream and swing your dirks wildly.  _Next time_ scent before you attack!"

Liberty threw her hands up, having sheathed her knives, and—

Shoved Jill to the ground.

The breathless gasp of pain ripped from Jillian's lips when her chest roughly connected with the ground followed by the weight of her best friend. It was  _excruciating._ But the blindingly white light shining through her eyelids offered a reason for such hasty and  _utterly painful_ action.

They'd just dodged one of those deadly light beams.

The enemy had noticed them.

_Bartholomew Kuma._

_Fake._

Shit.

She needed to tell Lib it was a fake.

A second blast of heated light had them rolling away from each other in a desperate evasion. Instincts blaring to  _move your asses_  the Wyvern Sisters leaped to their feet, eyes scanning the area for other beams and allies.

The Heart and Kid pirates were spread out, looking bedraggled and weary but determined nonetheless. Out in front, standing tall were the two captains. Kid was breathing hard, fists clenched, floating metal forming a sort of halo around him. Even from the side Kid looked tired.

Law wasn't much better. Clothes dirty and rumpled, furry spotted hat matted with dirt, and hoodie covered chest heaving; even the "Surgeon of Death" was frowning. What was even more incriminating was the limp arm hanging by his side, useless. Jillian stared at the limb, an unfamiliar echo of something panging in her chest. Her jaw clenched at the feeling, eyes darkening with vexation.

She was  _not_ feeling  _guilty_  over disabling Trafalgar Law. He was fool enough to have designs on her, fool enough to think  _he had a chance_. He wholly deserved that dead arm. She regretted _nothing_.

"Lib, that thing is a fake. Its scent is all wrong. Not human, but a machine of some sort."

Short and curt. That's how Jillian liked her explanations.

Liberty stared at her owlishly for a moment, brown-teal eyes gleaming skeptically. She turned back to the figure of Bartholomew Kuma. Now that she thought about it there was something a bit _off_ about the warlord.

For one he could shoot laser beams. And Liberty had no memory of hearing such a power where Kuma was concerned. Two, there had been  _no blood whatsoever_ from the wounds she'd made on his body.

No blood from any wound actually.

"You think it has an off button?" The inquiry was murmured curiously from a thoughtful Lib, eyes darting around the  _machines_  figure. Jillian licked her dry lips, stance widening, weight shifting to her heels. It was a battle ready stance, one that lowered her center of balance in preparation for a fight. Lib mirrored her with her own stance, hands pulling wickedly sharp dirks out of there sheathes on her thighs.

"We'd have to move fast to get a good look in and my stupid body is already weak enough as it is." Jillian scowled down at the bandages covering her torso. Though she did not regret taking the bullet for Hachi she did regret not being able to fight side by side with Lib.

It was in that lull of silence right before Liberty moved to reply that they felt the gaze. Someone was watching them. Both Gifted tensed, heads rising to see the would-be warlord staring right at them. They stiffened, the amount of threat in the air setting their instincts on fire.

It was worse when  _its_ mouth opened.

Like lightning the two pivoted to the side, legs propelling them to what was supposedly safe. They skidded to a stop when no beam of light gouged the space between them. Instead the voice of the artificial Kuma assailed their ears.

" _Wyvern Sister, Sonneillon B. Jillian_."

Liberty blanched. Bartholomew Kuma or  _it_ had uttered those same words to her in the beginning just before he…—

It happened fast.

Too fast for anything other than instinct to push her forward. There was no time for thought, for indecision.

Skulley J. Liberty bolted in the direction of her best friend. It was with an innate knowledge that she knew what was coming. She could not allow it to pass; Jillian had been struggling with her injury, the pain of it gleaming from her eyes. Anymore and she'd be past her breaking point.

Putting on another burst of speed Liberty tore across the last of the space and _threw_ herself in front of Jillian.

A second later her body was snatched brutally from the ground by a hard, _metal_ hand. Sure it was covered in what appeared to be skin but underneath was cold and metallic. She let out a choked gasp when her brain registered the pressure clamping down around her body. It was  _tightening_.

"No!" Jillian shouted furiously, eyes wide and terrified. Others reacted angrily as well, including an enraged snarl from Kid. Neither Jillian nor a dazed Liberty heard the sound of possessive rage.

Torso compressed between giant fingers Lib glared half-heartedly at the  _machine._ It was quickly growing difficult to inhale and exhaling was impossible. There was no space for her ribcage to expand. A weak cry slipped past her lips when she felt the grip tighten more.

The shouts escalated in volume.

Liberty's ears popped from the pressure.

" _Wyvern Sister, Skulley J. Liberty_."

A sense of déjà vu washed over her at hearing that emotionless drawl. But this time there was something foreboding behind those words. It lingered and taunted, a wicked conspiracy heralding imminent hell.

" _Course of action: immediate annihilation."_

 _White_ hot agony  _drilled_  into her back.

Liberty screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

 _Vicious_  pain bit and  _dragged_ across flesh. Lib screamed until her throat could no longer contain it; her lungs giving out from lack of oxygen. The world fell away, white spots exploding over her eyes, stealing her sight. Her eyes stayed open, though, gazing blankly out. The anguish that licked at her back like fire had her jaw clenching so hard it brought tears to her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks unnoticed.

God, it felt like her back was  _splitting_ ; like a serrated rusty blade was rending a jagged line down her spine. Lib whimpered as it engulfed her completely. Merely a thread of consciousness held on to reality. Vaguely she could feel her head lull to the side weakly.

Absolute havoc began then, and she could faintly hear maddened bellows and shocked cries filling the clearing.

A deep, buried part of Liberty's subconscious recoiled from the encroaching black oblivion. … _Jill was still out there, still injured_ …

She fought against the pain, the crushing agony holding her captive. The more  _civil_  part of Lib's brain had shut down in the wake of such anguish, yet in its place stirred the deepest of instincts. A dark primal entity; a beast who ran on pure destructive emotion. It woke, snarling and forcing itself to the surface. It had been threatened, its existence was at stake; it rose to the call of self-preservation.

Brown-teal eyes bled completely teal. The color was so bright it appeared neon. Slack lips pulled over fangs in a bloodletting snarl of primordial rage.

Then she  _transformed_.

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Eustass "Captain" Kid was frozen. Actually frozen with shock. It was worse than when he'd been shot in the thigh by one of the seven Warlords of the Sea. He'd been bashing Bartholomew Kuma with his arms of metal. His crew doing the same, trying to beat down the warlord through sheer force. Anything would eventually give when beaten into the ground so many times.

But time had worn on and his energy had lessened with the continued use of his devil fruit. His men were also tiring; they would never admit to it, they  _were_ on his crew after all. And Kid pirates were strong, they did not run from fights like pansies. Trafalgar Law and his crew were just collateral.

The appearance of  _Liberty_  was even better. Watching her fight alongside his first mate was almost like she was unconsciously calling herself a Kid pirate. It brought a delicious feeling of triumph to his gut at the sight.

What happened next ruined any semblance of satisfaction.

The other Wyvern Sister had gotten away from Trafalgar Law to rejoin with his soon-to-be crewmate.

He wasn't the only one to notice their reunion.

Before anyone could do anything Bartholomew Kuma lunged for the two Gifted, shooting a beam at them. They dodged successfully but it left them separated. Kid remembered his face tensing, dark lips parting to release a furious shout when he saw  _his_  dragon in the hands of that  _fucking bitch._

And for the first time in his life he derived no pleasure, no glee at hearing someone scream. The massive hand holding Liberty squeezed but that wasn't what was causing the agonized wailing. It was his  _fingers_. They pressed cruelly into the back of the Tri-horn Wyvern, rending a bloody ravine along the spine.

Kid was left with an intense feeling of  _homicidal fury_.

The snarl of unadulterated  _black_  rage snapped him right out of his anger. It echoed around the clearing, stopping everyone in their tracks. Such a sound was  _not human._ But he never got the chance to see Liberty's face before blindingly white light burned his retinas. It disappeared immediately leaving everyone disoriented. Kid blinked, his red eyes blurry and spotted. A strange silence pushed into his ears.

Then.

An explosion of sound. Furious. Primeval. Deafening.

A roar.

The sheer force behind it slammed into his eardrums, his senses drowning under the weight of its profundity; the reckless, mindless rage riding the snarl heating Kid's blood with excitement even as his hearing suffered. Because, in that moment, pain ceased to matter. Not when Kid bore witness to the myth given form.

The beast was massive, its body dwarfing his ship with ease. Possessing a smooth black and white hide, its wings acted as its forearms, each 'finger' tipped with a wicked teal spike. Another set of spikes donned its back eight in number. They were deadly weapons if used right. Three sleek horns crowned the elegantly tapered head. Simply put, the beast was fucking magnificent.

A wide bloodthirsty grin nearly cracked Kid's face in two as he watched  _Liberty_ spear those sharp teal spines attached to her wings into the sides of Bartholomew Kuma. He realized that it was an instinctive move to hold the warlord - her prey - still for the killing blow. Which wasn't happening.

A yellow light foreshadowing a beam of deathly energy had the two pirate crews stiffening, wary. If the dragon, Liberty, didn't move soon she would be hit point-blank in the chest.

What they saw next had every pair of eyes widening. Everyone was spellbound. Of course, they heard the unmistakable sound of energy firing but there was no impact. No shriek of pain. The dragon didn't reel back on its hunches, blood splattering from a grievous wound. Confusion abounded at first before logical deduction took its place.  _She'd swallowed the beam!_ The pirates balked.

An odd, belly-deep rumbling growl had everyone snapping back to attention, eyes fixated on the dragon. The wyvern drew its considerable mass up, its head held back like a coiled cobra; bestial eyes narrowed and the dark maw opened, a dangerous teal light igniting the back of the throat.

One thought was collectively asserted.

_She was going to spew flame._

The enraged, draconic Liberty did just that. And it was like nothing Kid had ever seen before. The hair-rising intensity behind the fiery breath was  _staggering._ It broadened his wide insane grin; Kid was loath to look away when he watched _his_ soon-to-be crewmate literally _incinerate_ the warlord down into a pathetic pile of refuse and ash.

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Sonneillon B. Jillian feared for her life.

Not for herself, no, but for the life of her best friend. That life, a life she valued above all others was being compromised by a  _fucking machine_. Jillian cursed herself to the deepest pit of hell for not reacting fast enough. She'd stood there, face startled as _it_ had snatched Lib right in front of her. And she'd done _nothing_ to prevent it.

Just stood there in a stupor and watched as her friend was gripped between those fingers. Fingers that were slowly compressing. Slowly meaning to kill. Hearing the choked gasp was just another pain to her chest she didn't want to focus on. She _had_ to do something. She had to get Liberty out of that hand. Or it would likely crush her.

She had to  _save_  her!

Two tattooed arms encircling her waist stopped her flat. Jillian froze; she could feel  _his_  chest pressed firmly against her back. But this did not have panic rushing through her veins, rather it had white-hot fury boiling her blood. A second irritation was the sight of _two arms_ wrapped around her waist and not  _one._ Looks like her dead arm had finally worn off.

Jillian sneered at this. She did not have time to play with the Dark Doctor! With a growl Jillian whirled around, fingers poised to jab his throat. It was a deadly pressure point. Most times if hit hard enough the trachea would collapse. Yet, this fact did not stop Jillian's hand.

A much larger hand did so. The hand was bruising in its grip; Jillian hissed as she felt her fingers throb and crunch, the bones grinding against each other with painful brutality. This led to immediate backpedaling which nearly left Jillian's fingers dislocated from the fact that Law would _not let go_.  _Dickhead!_ But she pulled herself free with a jerk.

A swift pivot had her back on track towards the imposter Kuma. Her forward motion lasted four steps before Jillian felt something  _wrench_  her arms behind her back. The shock of pain  _fulminating_  from her shoulders tore a shocked cry from her.

"If I have to stop you again, I  _will_ dislocate your shoulders." Law whispered in her ear, tone rich with malicious warning. To show he was serious he forced her captive wrists higher up her back. Jillian couldn't help the groan that slipped past her lips at the new wave of pain. It left her gasping for breath which sent pangs through her chest.  _Urgh! Goddamn it!_

"W-would you  _let go!_ That's my friend  _dying_  over there, asshole! I have to save her, _you piece of shit!_ " Jillian growled over her shoulder, body writhing in an attempt to free herself from Law. Said captain didn't release her, didn't even loosen the painful hold on her wrists. Pitiless grey eyes stared down on a head of teal curls, the emotion in them dark and turbulent. Below them lips were set in a thin line of malignance. Law was quite  _displeased_  with the situation.

"You will not leave my side again. With your injuries any action on your part will get you caught and killed." The words were low and mocking, slinking into her ears like honeyed poison. The tone of it, the words themselves, and the way he spoke them right into the shell of her ear had Jillian's temper rising.

" _Fucking bastard!_ Let me  _go!_ If you think I'm going to _stand here_ and listen to  _you_  while  _my friend_ is in troub-  _Arrgh!_ " The sudden onslaught of pulsating agony emitting from her shoulder joints had a shout issuing from Jillian's lips. A snarl curled them soon after.

"If you don't want dislocated shoulders, Miss Jillian, I would recommend that you  _stop_ ordering me around." Jillian expected hot fury but the voice hissing into her ear was unbearably cold. Cold and calm. It had the hair on the back of her neck rising. There was a tightly constrained anger behind that façade of mocking politeness.

Jillian would've slumped under the pressure Law was exuding on her arms if not for the sight of Liberty losing consciousness. Seeing her friend pass out from compression had a burst of desperate adrenaline coursing through her veins like dam water. It had an infuriated cry escaping her lips when her head fell limply to the side.

It was enough to spur her into action.

Jillian instinctively knew she had to drop her center of gravity to escape. It would hurt like a bitch but pain was something she was beginning to grow accustomed to. What was a little more. She dropped to the ground, a grunt of pain shaking her chest in that moment of resistance. Having picked her legs up so abruptly Law either had to let go of her arms or tumble down with her. But she'd made a miscalculation.

Sonneillon B. Jillian did not take into account just how tall Law was. So instead of releasing her he merely bent his knees to compensate. Though her unexpected move did have the grip on her arms loosening. It was enough of a window to counter move.

As soon as Jillian felt those hands on her go lax she threw herself on her side. It was a highly painful position because her shoulders was wrenched in a ninety degree angle. Well, almost. This new onset of pain gave her the initiative to  _retaliate._

Face grimacing in discomfort Jillian drove a leg towards Law right leg. She hooked her ankle behind his knee too quick for him to properly react and  _jerked_ it out from underneath him _._ But Jillian didn't stop to watch him fall as she rolled out of the doctors hold as soon as it disappeared. She was just about to shove herself to her feet when _that_ snarl roared through the clearing.

_Oh. Shit!_

Blood Rage.

Liberty was under the influence of Blood Rage.  _Fuck! Fuck!_ _Fuck!_

When a Gifted is threatened by an outside force to the point of impending death their instincts awaken. Not the usual flight or fight instinct but a deeply intrinsic proclivity that lives inside a dragon. To a human it could be called self-preservation. Only the _self-preservation_ of a dragon is quite alive; it could think, calculate, and communicate with everything around it. But those occurrences were rare among the Gifted. There was a reason it was called Blood Rage.

Because a Blood Rage was always triggered by circumstances that brought on an overpowering fury. Jillian hadn't seen Liberty in one in over four hundred years. It was shocking. What was even more shocking was the attack the Blood Rage used. Reflect Breath was an advanced technique for any Gifted. It called for the swallowing of an opposing energy, internalizing it into ones system, and deflecting it back on the enemy.

The outcome of Reflect Breath solely depended on the type of dragon a Gifted was. If a dragons natural breath could not meld with the antagonistic force entering them than the consequences were usually fatal. It was not a technique for an inexperienced Gifted. It was also a technique hardly used  _because_  it was so dangerous.

Jillian watched, eyes impossibly wide, as Liberty's Blood Rage released the mixed breath on the fake Kuma. It sounded like a blowtorch from hell. The turquoise fire literally  _melted_ , cremated anything solid it could reach. And with Reflect Breath it was even more eradicative.

There was nothing but sizzling ash on a scorched spot of ground when she was done. But the smell…

It had Jillian whining, stiff bruised hands clamping over her protesting nose. God, the smell was  _horrible_. She wanted to  _gag_. It was burning the inside of her nostrils. The heavy intrusive scent of hot oil and metallic ash was nauseating, simply  _nauseating._

The howl of primal distress that rocked the clearing wasn't from the repulsive stench though.

Jillian cracked open an eye to see the Tri-horn Wyvern rear back on its hindquarters, spiked wings flaring erratically. The pose brought the bloody laceration rending Lib's back into sharp relief. It was a torn, ragged looking wound. Just the sight of it had Jillian crying out.

It was terribly deep, the red of muscles showing between the stretches of skin. It steadily dripped blood. The warm crimson liquid crawled down the back like a macabre cape. Liberty was losing a dangerous amount of blood. Her accelerated healing would be hard-pressed to close such a wide surface wound. It nearly stretched the length of her back.

Liberty's Blood Rage let out another piercing shriek before lowering to all fours again. Then the eight teal spikes on her back started _glowing_. The two pirate crews stared, Jillian crowed jubilantly when she recognized what the Tri-horn Wyvern was doing.

Of course the Blood Rage would know how to save itself, save Liberty. By using Ancestral Reversion. The ability to activate the genes and traits of two ancestors. It was very draining to use so it wasn't implemented often.

One of Liberty's ancestors just so happened to be a Nocturne dragon. They were blue-scaled Westerns with solar absorptive powers. They never ran out of energy because sunlight was plentiful. That is why they were able to heal far quicker than other dragons if hurt severely. The unlimited energy of the Nocturne dragon would bolster the accelerated healing into an even quicker healing speed. Some of the Gifted called it instant regeneration.

The term wasn't that far off.

With a rumbling growl the Tri-horn Wyvern seemed to shudder bodily, the skin around the shredded area slowly knitting together. It was a disturbing sight to watch for a normal person, yet the two pirate crews surprised Jillian.

Whoops and catcalls erupted from both groups as the wound stitched itself steadily. There was not one hint of disgust among them. For the few who'd seen the ability usually reacted with revile.

When the injury closed fully the Tri-horn Wyvern reared for a second time, head thrown to the sky as if in triumph. The light that appeared right after had everyone shying away with muttered curses.

Jillian was already sprinting toward the light before it disappeared.

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"…ake up! Damn it, talk about  _role reversal_. No wonder you were so  _pissed off_ at me. Oi! Lib,  _wake the fuck up!_ "

Skulley J. Liberty shifted moodily in her sleep at the racket. It really needed to _shut up_ and go away before she woke up. But the noise, a _voice_ , persisted doggedly.  _Go away, you stupid fuck! Trying to sleep here!_

The voice didn't go away which only irked Liberty more.

"…Wake up! Oi, _fuckface_ wake up!"

And an irked Lib was a violent Lib.

"I'm  _not_  going to stop  _bugging you_ until you wak-  _Arrgh, damn it!_ " A fist to the jaw had Jillian reeling back on her knees, one hand holding the abused area. Her lips were pulled in a dark scowl as she glared down at the prone form of her friend. A very winky-eyed moody best friend at that.

" _Good_  morning to  _you_  too, _lizard_." Jillian snorted irritably. All she got in response was a sluggish groan and a muttered, "Fuck off." This was met with a finger jab to the axilla pressure point. Nothing too hard, as it was a dangerous point to press. Jillian pushed just enough to send a shock through the axillary artery.

It had Liberty sitting up with a loud, "Urgh!  _Fuck you_ , Jill! I was _taking_ a  _nap!_ " Jillian continued to glare irritably at her best friend.

Liberty stared groggily at Jillian and wondered why she seemed so agitated. Well, of course, there would be  _some_  hostility to the situation. She had almost died, and was feeling like hell. No, worse than hell. Yet, Liberty sensed this was not the issue, something else was setting off Jillian.

A low warning growl emitting from Jillian had Lib looking up.  _Oh, so that's why Jill's tense._

Since the destruction of the fake Bartholomew Kuma the Heart and Kid pirates had reassembled by their captains. They stood flanking the two Gifted on either side and stared with tired watchful gazes.

Liberty noted several expressions at once. Most of them she  _did not like_ , especially when they were pinned on her and Jillian. There was a particular tension in the air, like the calm before the storm. It was a subconscious unease triggered by a slight hunted feeling. Jillian being the more sensitive of the two was probably feeling it worse than her.  _Poor Jill._

It was a nerve-wracking sensation; a literal weight in the gut that only grew heavier the more they were stared at.

Suddenly there was movement. Liberty blinked, eyes trained on the tall red-haired form of Eustass "Captain" Kid. He was pointing at her, narrowed red eyes intent. It sent her heart racing for reasons she couldn't comprehend.

"Oi, you're joining my crew." Short and filled to the brim with arrogance. It wasn't even a question; it was a command to be followed. For a moment his words didn't register in Lib's foggy mind but when it did…

Liberty stared, balked, and spat a drowsy, "Hell no!"

Kid's smirk curled into a snarl. " _Bitch_ , you're joining my crew, whether you fucking like it or not."

If there was one thing Skulley J. Liberty hated it was being ordered to do something. And Kid had just crossed the line. Even if she was pretty much drained to the dregs of her energy she still hissed at the captain. Brown-teal glared sleepily at Kid the message in her gaze clear.  _Fuck you, asshole!_

Kid sneered in response, blood-red eyes sparking angrily.  _Fucking bitch thinks she has a choice._ Kid stepped forward intending to grab the woman and show her  _why_ he had the highest bounty. A guttural snarl and a body blocked his view and his target. It was the shorter Wyvern Sister, the one with long teal hair and blue-teal eyes.

He met those same eyes with an annoyed scoff. "Don't fucking interfere or I'll kill you." The threat slid off the dragons back like water; it irritated him that no fear crossed her expression. Kid's hand started to rise, the air around him churning, his devil fruit stirring inside of him. But before he could spit out "Repel" a certain Dark Doctor butted in, smirk in place.

"You weren't threatening a member of  _my_ crew were you Mr. Eustass?" Kid immediately turned his temper on Trafalgar Law. The man was standing not far from him with his crew surrounding him. He had that  _irritating_ smile that drove Kid up a wall every time he saw it. Mockingly polite with a healthy dose of bloodcurdling darkness behind it. Kid sneered at the doctor.

Aggressive red eyes met cold grey; they were like two alpha males squaring off. Jillian and Liberty watched the stare down, both swallowing as the air grew thick with murderous tension. It had them swallowing, mouths dry. Jillian felt a small spurt of resentment for Law's possessive connotation.  _Stupid fucking possessive jerk!_

"Psst…I think  _now_  would be a good time to  _get the hell outta here_." Liberty whispered softly, inching back on her hands like a sloth. Jillian followed and they both crept backward imperceptibly.

Jillian and Liberty paled,  _froze_ , and literally stopped breathing when two stares of blood and ice flicked to their position. Laying on the ground under those gazes Lib and Jill felt their guts shrivel fearfully.

Bloody eyes narrowed, "Where the fuck do you think your going?"

Kid's sentiment was echoed by the Heart pirate captain. "I hope you weren't trying to _leave_ , Miss Jillian."

The Gifted swallowed in unison, minds blank with startled fright. While Jillian was frozen still under Law's icy stare, Lib was  _desperately_  searching for  _something_  that would take those evil crimson eyes off her.

That something was, once again, Trafalgar Law.

… _Dare._

 _"_ … _I dare you to take Law's hat off and run your hands though his hair_ … _"_

Liberty would've danced around in glee for the distraction if she wasn't so damn terrified at the moment. It was with a mustering of shriveled guts that Liberty turned to her partner-in-crime, not even caring that she was about to throw her under the bus, and forced out," Oh  _I_  see now. You did all this to get away from your  _dare_. Well you don't fool me Jill! Your still going to do your dare!"

Said Hellfire Wyvern turned, eyes glittering with confusion and relief, before the color abruptly drained from her face. Liberty almost,  _almost_  felt sorry for what she was about to do to her best friend. But she  _had_  said Law was hot, so it shouldn't be  _too_  bad.

Arms crossing with a little too much exaggeration (nerves) Lib stared Jillian down. She nodded toward Law who unsurprisingly caught the directive. Stance laid back, inquisitive smile curling mocking lips, Law inquired on the obvious question.

"And what dare might that be?"

Jillian glared at her friend, blue-teal eyes dark and crocodilian. Lib wasn't put off by the feral stare, rather she grinned widely. She knew it was just a façade to hide just how _scared shitless_ she was.

"I refuse to do my dare just because _your dare_ got you all flustered."

Liberty ignored the hissed statement in favor of answering the Surgeon of Death. "Oh just the same dare I had to do, I'm sure you remember."

Cue intense blush.

Kid joined in on the conversation then, dark lips grinning devilishly, "Flustered, eh? If you'd have  _stayed on_ I would've made you more than a little  _flustered_." The blatant sexual innuendo combined with the heat in Kid's eyes had Liberty experiencing a mental breakdown.

Her friends shell-shock was amusing to Jillian who was just happy the spotlight was off her until the smooth voice of Trafalgar Law cut in, "Come here, Miss Jillian, you wouldn't  _want_  to be seen as a coward by backing out of a dare?"

Now Jillian was the one going through a mental breakdown.

_Coward. That fucking asshole just called me a_ _coward!_

_Cowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcoward!_

Jillian abruptly leaped to her feet, face dark with fury. The sudden movement seemed to jog Lib out of her stupefaction and she looked at Jillian with knowing brown-teal eyes.  _It's about time!_

Lips curling over sharp canines Jillian glared into the smug eyes of Trafalgar Law. She stalked determinedly toward the smirking pirate captain an agitated snarl crawling up her throat. Her temper blocked the gazes of the other pirates, ignored the curious chatter on  _dares_.

All she did was stalk toward the smirking bastard who'd called her a _coward_.

_She'd show him!_

Fury pulsing hot through her veins, Jillian stepped up to the Surgeon of Death. At only 5'3" she barely reached Law's shoulder. She bared her teeth at the languid delectation swimming in his grey eyes. The aura of smug anticipation had Jillian's temper roiling and clawing at her to  _do something_. She glared with all the disdain she was feeling, and instantly felt another spurt of indignation when she had to  _tilt_  her head back to meet the grey gaze.

_She looked up to no one._

Anger guiding her actions Jillian rose on her tiptoes, blue-teal eyes never leaving amused grey, and slid her hands underneath the furry spotted hat. The sensation of soft strands gliding through her fingers had the haze of prideful rage draining away like water down a pipe. The equally soft fur against the back of her hands was just another shock to her system. That and the warmth. Jillian went very, very still.

The husky chuckle that breathed across her face had her gasping, mind breaking the surface of the strange daze she'd fallen into. Raising her head her eyes met the lazy gaze of Law. The glint of masculine satisfaction was something Jillian chose to ignore but the emotion lingering behind it had her warning bells ringing. And ringing loud. It was that lingering emotion, that subtle  _promise_  that had Jillian noticing just how close she was to Law.

… _W-hat the hell am I doing…?_

She was  _too close_. _He_ was too close.

Exhaling had their torsos brushing. Jillian swallowed thickly. Their faces were  _way too close_.

It was  _dangerous_.

Law's whisper-soft voice floated to her ears, tone all silk and shadow, "Are you enjoying your dare, Miss Jillian?"

She wanted to run and run far from this man. He was dangerous. He made her feel strange things, her self-control was non-existent where he was concerned, and it was that loss of control, that security that scared Jillian. It made her _afraid_ of this man.

Unbidden a quiet whimper slipped past numb lips. The sound was fuel for Law's smile; it was a dark triumphant show of emotion. It was the smile of a predator.

Law leaned down so he could meet Jillian's frightened gaze. "Answer my question, Miss Jillian."

Jillian could hear the blood roaring in her ears, could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel the heat of his body through her clothes and the heat watching her from out of those haunting grey eyes. She was frozen, caught like a puppet before its puppeteer. And Law controlled the strings.

She didn't know what was happening. One minute she is  _so_ pissed off that all she was set on doing was walking up to the unnerving bastard and shoving his hat down over his face. Then, here she is feeling weak in the knees, hopelessly caught in the grey depths of Trafalgar Law's eyes and she's answering him like a loyal minion.

"…Y-yes."

It is quiet and Jillian knows she's just done something irrevocable. Something horrible. In the numbness of her mind she could've sworn she'd heard the sound of a trap door snap shut. The sound echoed, spiraling round and round in her head. Some part deep in Jillian stirred, ignited, and whispered.

 _No_ …

_Do not give in._

_Fight. Fight him._

_Stay free._

"No." Jillian said it softly but it held no hesitation. Law stared into the blue-teal gaze of Sonneillon B. Jillian; he immediately noticed the change, as slight as it was. It had been a sweet victory when he'd discovered just how pure this particular Wyvern Sister was. Her reactions to his proximity were those of a virgin. It was easy to see she'd never been touched, nor approached by a man.

Law smirked. "No what?"

Blue-teal eyes abruptly cleared, filling with an intense dislike. Her voice was just as low as his but with undercurrents of menace. "No, I'm  _not_ enjoying this. Not even remotely you  _perverted son of a bitch_."

The hiss of hostility was followed by a loaded shout of, " _Lib!_ " At the same time Jillian ripped her hands out from underneath Law's hat and threw herself backward.

A moment later a smoke bomb went off.

When it cleared only the two pirate crews were left standing.

Law continued to smirk.

It was barely there but it mirrored the dark shadows playing across his cold grey eyes.

Cold grey eyes that gleamed knowingly.

_She'd lied._

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_Uh-oh._

That one word repeated in Liberty's brain like a broken record. Abrupt motion from Jillian always foreshadowed a snapping. And Jillian's body was under enough strain without adding an explosion of rage. From what Lib could tell the bandages around her friends chest were barely holding her wound together. There was no red showing through the gauze but enough strenuous activity could easily change that.

Jill's gunshot wound was too fresh an injury to be wholly closed yet. It would take time and heaps of rest to heal. Liberty herself needed a good amount of rest. Desperately. What she _really_ needed was a secure place to hibernate for a few days to recover her reserves. A Blood Rage coupled with using Ancestral Reversion was so far beyond exhausting that she didn't know what to call it.

All she really wanted to do was find a hole in a tree, preferably warm, and curl up in a ball for some sleep. Though she was extremely happy to get her revenge. Jillian deserved it for all she'd put her through.

Sitting on the ground left Lib two things to ponder. One, Jillian's payback.  _Ha!_  And two, how to get away from their present company.

The answer was easy; smoke bomb mixed with a touch of Cypripedium Acaule. Having just fought a battle the two pirate crews were tired and worn. They would be highly susceptible to the effects of the sedative.

They wouldn't have the energy nor the motivation to go after them.

And with how weak her and Jillian were it was a blessing.

"We never _finished_ our conversation, dragon." The coarse growl from above her and the shadow blocking the sun had Liberty squeaking, head whipping up. What she saw had her yelping in fright and startlement. How had Kid walked over without her notice. He was standing above her with a raunchy grin.

She swallowed, throat uncomfortably dry. Those crimson eyes were hellish and downright wolfish in their intensity. They ravaged everything in sight, drawing in unsuspecting victims and drowning them in a pool of violence.

Lib found herself drowning.

Drowning in the blood of his gaze.

_Look away._

_Run._

Body quaking to life Liberty started crawling backward. Standing and running wasn't an option yet, her back was still recovering.

It was safe to say she didn't get far.

Liberty had crawled three feet before a pale fist had twisted itself into the fabric of her shirt and  _yanked._ Without the energy to pull away she was unceremoniously ripped to her feet. Exhaustion was no match for Liberty's stubborn streak; she struggled, a hand raising to claw at his fist.

"Fighting me won't help you…I, however, find it rather  _entertaining_." Kid grinned sadistically, grip tightening. With a laugh he pulled his fist up so Lib was dangling in front of him. The loss of ground under her feet sent those brown-teal eyes panicking. It only provoked Kid further.

"Are you flustered yet?  _No?_ Well, I'll just have to change that won't I bitch." If Liberty's heart was pounding before it was hammering now; the sinister glint in twin red eyes as well as the deepening of his voice was like a death sentence. It had her instincts blaring and her stomach clenching with something she didn't want to put a name to.

There was something wholly  _evil_  behind that taunt.

"Put me _down_ , you dumbass!" Lib shouted the demand into his face, intent on distracting herself from her bodies strange reaction. Even _if_ it was unhealthy. And everyone knew that yelling at Kid, incensing Kid could get you killed.

Liberty wasn't so lucky.

"What…did you just say?" he growled quietly; a tightly round wire about to  _snap_.

The Tri-horn Wyvern stayed silent, glaring defiantly.

Kid snapped.

With a roar he threw Lib to the ground. It wasn't gentle, not in the least. Rolling three times and skidding a few feet did not equal gentle. Liberty felt skin break open against rough ground and couldn't stop the weak cry of pain when her back scraped over gravel. The new muscles and ligaments that had been repaired were still new, still weak, and the beating they were going through was a beating they just couldn't handle.

This left Lib gasping breathlessly, arms wrapping around her torso in search of relief that wasn't there. The large hand like a vice around her neck had Lib flinching, but it didn't stop Kid from picking her up again. He sneered at his dragon, she was powerful so he would need to  _teach_  her just  _who_  was the captain. If she learned fast the better for her but if she didn't…

His hand squeezed soft flesh, his excitement growing when it incited a pained whimper. Hanging there, chin leaning on his wrist, she looked pathetic.  _Weak._  Yet, Kid had to remind himself that the woman whose throat was clasped between his fingers had destroyed a warlord. Killing her would only ruin her value as his subordinate.

Snorting disdainfully Kid leaned close, dark lips hissing, "Maybe that will teach you to not back talk me in the future, wench. Now where were we?"

Those last words had Lib's mind waking from its pain induced haze. It also had her sleeping temper flaring. Eustass "Captain" Kid was just a violent man who took rejection like a pussy.

_Was she really fearing a man like him?_

_Well, I shouldn't!_

"Like  _hell_ …I'd ever  _learn_  anything… _from you!_ " Liberty placed her hands on Kids wrist and pulled herself up. If she didn't take some of the pressure off breathing would become more difficult than it already was. "And  _you're crazy_ if you think  _I'd ever join_ the crew of an abus _–_ "

Teeth biting down  _hard_  on the soft flesh of her earlobe had Lib choking back her spiteful words in exchange for a startled squeal. The hand gripping her neck stopped her from jerking her head sideways to escape. She freaked.  _What was he doing? What the hell was he doing!_

The hot moist  _something_ laving the blood away had a strangled noise gurgling in the back of her throat.  _Oh fucking God!_

He was licking…

Liberty's brain short circuited.

That unfamiliar churning in her gut intensified and she whined in confused distress. She shouldn't be feeling whatever she was feeling right now. She shouldn't be feeling anything  _at all._

Kid pulled back wanting to see the results of his _ministrations_ but she wasn't looking at him. Growling in annoyance Kid reached out with his free hand and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him.

Lib's breath hitched; his eyes were like magma, livid and fiery. They gleamed cruelly through discs of blood-red. Kid chuckled rapaciously, enjoying the game, relishing in it tremendously. He could stare at those slit eyes for hours and with her as a crewmate he'd get to.

Kid smirked at the pale face of his dragon and wanted to push further. Wanted to see how far he could go before she really started to struggle. He pressed closer to her, pulling her by the neck till she was nearly leaning against him. The slight shudder he felt from her told him that she was very aware of their position.

She was  _flustered._

Skulley J. Liberty was utterly and completely  _overwhelmed_. She was  _way_  out of her comfort zone.

Everything about Kid had her warning bells going crazy. He was too big, too abrasive, too dominating for her to be even  _remotely_  comfortable near him. So she wanted to _not_ be near him.

The words coming out of his mouth were rich with decadent egotism, "How about joining my crew  _now_ , bitch?"

It didn't even sound like a question; it was a bald-faced threat. One that had Lib's dormant temper stirring for the second time.

_Fuck you and your stupid crew!_

Just as she was about to spit those exact words into Kid's face a weak sounding, " _Lib!_ " had her attention drawing elsewhere. The voice had sounded so heartachingly desperate Lib felt like gasping.

_Jill!_

_It was Jill!_

A lightbulb suddenly went off in her head. She was getting the message. Jill wanted out.

 _The bomb_ …

Jill wanted her to throw the bomb.

What was worse; she'd sounded scared.

Jill wasn't scared of anything.

That strange fear, the weak pleading tone of desperation drove Liberty to act. And act she did.

With a hiss of breath Lib met Kid's hellish gaze and smiled nastily. At the same time she sent her right hand into her pouch to grab the bomb while reaching out with her left towards Kid. She didn't give herself time to freak out over what she was about to do, she just did it.

Liberty whipped her hand out and grabbed the odd goggles sitting on Kid's forehead and  _pulled_.

She chucked the bomb directly over her shoulder into the center of pirates right as she released the goggles.

The resounding smack and snarl was something that Lib ignored in favor of escaping the loose hold around her neck.

With a shout of " _Jill, this way!_ " she sprinted off through the smoke and high-tailed it out of the clearing.

She did not see Jill bolt into the mangroves on the other side.


	6. I Spy Teal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is a monster. If you love long chapters than you're in for a treat. This is full of character development (I hope) and new characters. And if you like citrus it has that too. Nothing lemony but its enough to get your nose going. *Cackles evilly*

 

_"It's not meant to be like this,_

_not what I planned at all._

_I don't want to feel like this, yeah,_

_so that makes it all your fault._

_I feel a weakness coming on,_

_big trouble, losing control,_

_there's no way out, they've_

_got control. Point of no_

_return. One second to go._

**The Walk by Imogen Heap**

Sun.

Trees.

Birds.

Bubbles.

Rocks.

Liberty ignored all the things that would've brought delight had she just been taking a walk beneath the mangroves. What she did pay attention to was pain; pain that constricted like wire in her lungs, pain that stung the pads of her feet like hot needles, and pain that licked like fire at her back. It all meshed together into one big mass of agony that dragged at her as she ran. Ran from the clearing, ran from the strange but frightening heat that sat like lava in her belly.

Ran from the man who  _put it there_.

Skulley J. Liberty did not run from the situation.

No…

She ran from Eustass "Captain" Kid. But she was not conscious of this fear; it dwelled in the back of her subconscious, a small unused part of her psyche. A part that had been stimulated by the unknowing advances of a Supernova.

This unused part festered with confusion. It snuck into Lib's mind and twisted it like a dagger till all she knew was a tense ball of discombobulation. But she ran with it because it was just another weight on her shoulders. Just another form of pain that spurred her faster, farther through the trees.

Arms close to her sides, strides long yet jerky, Liberty sprinted. The air seared at her sputtering lungs and her head was growing light from exertion; her vision began blurring dangerously with white spots. But, she shoved them away, instinct driving her forward, saying  _flee flee flee_  and she listened loyally.

It was  _only_ instinct and adrenaline that kept Lib moving. And move she did; Liberty flew over the ground as if hell itself was after her, face pale with strain and desperation born of painful circumstances.

It was safe to say she was on autopilot.

Body drained, back aching something fierce all Liberty wanted was a nice warm place to rest and recuperate. But the more groves she ran past the more open the terrain became. This had panic adding its speed to the already frantic pace the Tri-horn was running at. Lib didn't know how long her body could last at such a pace, but she had to find shelter.

It was something she had to find or else she wouldn't survive. Hibernation for a Gifted was risky in itself; out in the open and in enemy territory was suicide. The marines would find her and she'd be at ground zero.

_Death._

The word careened around in her head, bouncing wildly, filling her noggin with images that only compounded her anxiety and exhaustion. Despite this it kept Lib's legs moving, kept carrying her away from the danger.

Distance, time, repercussion; none of these were given precedence in Liberty's mind. She didn't care to know how long she ran, only that she get somewhere safe.

A tree root caught her ankle—

There was no time to scream.

At the velocity she was going her mind never fully registered the abrupt change in direction.

The impact of flesh colliding with dirt was jarring.

Then the world exploded into a flurry of angry red paint, white spots, and…

Darkness.

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Terror.

An acute sense of confusion.

Daze.

Jillian was in a daze. A dream.

None of this was real.

_He_  wasn't real. A figment of her nightmares.

But the pain in the soles of her feet, her hand, her body were too real for her tastes.

It echoed in her mind, pulsed through her limbs, laughed in her ears. It would not let itself be forgotten. The situation - the man - would not be forgotten.  _The feeling_ …

That unknown churning in her stomach. The heat in icy eyes. The promise weaved in smooth liquid tones. It haunted her, nipped at her sanity, bit at her heels, forced her  _faster._

And faster.

She ran to escape. Over cold hard ground, under roots, through brush; nothing would stop her flight. Nothing. For it was not only fear that spurred her on but instinct.

It whispered in a language she could not hear but understood nonetheless.

_Fly. Fly away fast lest you be caught. Fly._

She flew and under the staggering weight of her frenzied emotions her mind crashed. Crashed, failed, screamed, quieted.

It was the intangible force of instinct that prevented Jillian's body from following her minds descent. Her sense of self was completely taken over by automatic pilot.

And automatic pilot had one purpose.

Shelter. Hibernation. Rest. Heal.

Simple if not for the utterly weak state her body was in. The fact that she hadn't found a place worthy (safe) enough to slumber in was also grating. Grating in the desperate, fearful way that stole rationality and planted crazed panic.

If Jillian didn't find somewhere to hibernate she would lose it. And it wouldn't be pretty, nor would it be advantageous to the situation. All she needed was a deep hole, a well hidden niche, a po—

Jillian stopped her leg motion, not even conscious that it sent her flying into a nearby mangrove. The collision sent vicious spikes of fury through her torso and she gasped at the pain.

Yet she did her best to not be overwhelmed by it. For she didn't have the time or the attention for pain. She had to find what her nostrils had gotten a whiff of. Concerning any Gifted it was a Godsend.

Jillian had scented water.

Gingerly picking herself up from where she'd landed Jillian limped back to where the smell was strongest. Walked over a knoll and through some brush revealed the base of a massive mangrove but its roots were surrounded by water.

The sudden staggering onset of relief was so powerful that it brought the Hellfire Wyvern to her knees. And sitting there she was allowed to breathe; her lungs had long since grown numb to all the abuse they'd been subjected to. It was with heavy tortured convulsing of the chest that Jillian breathed. One hand was planted firmly on the ground while the other clasped the bandages to her ribs. The hand clenched into a fist, the adrenaline was slowing, the monster that was her pain was waking up.

She had to get in that water.

She had to disappear.

Body finally given a reprieve from the hellish pace she'd set it  _absolutely refused_ to rise. She was forced to crawl, to inch toward the pool of water. But she was happy to.

It was an unconscious liberation of stress that had stuck like tar since she'd entered Sabaody Archipelago.

Now. Now she could let it go and drift.

With a sigh Jillian slipped into the pool of clear water, half-lidded eyes closing in bliss. The water was calming, its currents caressing her wounds and banged up body. There was a very deep intrinsic bond between a Gifted and water. It was their friend, their confidant, their home, their _essence_. It was safe.

Jillian didn't care that she was falling deeper and deeper into the maze of submersed roots. She welcomed the abyss, welcomed the sea life around her, welcomed the darkness that rose to take her away.

And thus she drifted.

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**Day 1: Somewhere in the lawless grove.**

"Still haven't found her?"

The voice was cool with an unmistakable edge to it. The edge was very slight, hidden under layers of calm irony. Law leaned languidly against a wall, dark eyes shrouded by his hat as he surveyed the two men in front of him. They shifted somewhat nervously under his gaze, hands shoved deep in identical white boiler suits.

It had been over twenty-four hours since the fight with the  _pacifista._ Since Law had let Jillian go. While it was true that he could have easily stopped her from leaving he wanted to see her capacity. Oh, he'd catch her in the end. He was confident in his ability to apprehend her again. But before such a time came he'd enjoy the chase. He'd enjoy the  _reactions_.

Law smiled; a small devil-may-care smile.

The  _Surgeon of Death_ looked over his top engineers. Shachi and Penguin. He'd sent them out early in the morning to search for the Hellfire Wyvern. By their expressions when they'd approached him the search had come up empty. Just like he'd anticipated.

"Same as last time. No hint of teal hair anywhere captain. It's like she disappeared." mumbled Penguin cantankerously. A hand came up to scratch at short-cropped hair beneath a black flaphat saying 'PENGUIN' on the bill.

Shachi, a man wearing a green and red beanie hat, nodded in agreement. Arms crossed over his chest he huffed, "Do you want us to go look over the forties? She's not in the lawless groves _–_ "

"No, we're returning to the sub. She won't be out today." With that said Law steadied his nodachi over his shoulder and walked away. The small smile was still present. It was easy to understand. The Wyvern Sisters had the ability to humanize themselves but they still weren't  _human._ They were dragons. Creatures who could think and talk as he could yet still followed instinct. Instinct that took antecedence over human intuition. This discovery came from the simple fact that Jillian had growled at him; a warning in the animal world to stay away. Also the way her blue-teal eyes gleamed with something bestial. It was a sharp feral glint; calculative and dark.

Creatures - animals - who'd been wounded would immediately seek out someplace to recuperate. It was easy to deduce the reason none of his crew ever caught a glimpse of her. She was hiding and healing. So he'd wait, he was patient in his games. If what the Dark King had said was true he'd be seeing Jillian soon enough. So there was no rush.

A few feet back stood the two engineers, faces pinched in rumination. They glanced at their retreating captain before glancing to each other shrugging. Their captain was a secretive man. A cold ruthless man. It was rare when he chose to share his thoughts with anyone, and most times you wouldn't  _want_  to hear them. Hands deep in their pockets they moved to catch up. Law did not like telling orders twice.

"What do you think he meant by 'she won't be out today'?" murmured Shachi curiously. Penguin seemed to contemplate the question, mouth in a slight frown. He had no clue.

"You expect  _me_  to  _know_  what goes on in  _his head?_ " It was an annoyed grumble.

Shachi looked over to his crewmate and friend. "Hey, I was just asking a question!" Penguin stared flatly, snorting derisively, and muttered, "Yeah, that's the problem."

"Hey! There is nothing wrong with being curious!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night besides your teddy bear."

Shachi glared.

Penguin snickered.

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A man of lean stature wearing a blue and white mask calmly walked up the gangplank. The wooden walkway lead to the deck of a large Sloop-of-War. It had two masts and a rather dominant metallic theme going. Killer, as the man was named, sauntered across the deck stride fluid and confident. He headed straight for the captain's cabin.

Killer studiously ignored the crew who quietly watched him. They knew the screaming would start soon. Kid was never patient when he wanted something. Not in the current circumstances.

The first mate grabbed the gold handle and walked through the door without knocking. If anyone had tried that they'd be slagged six ways to sunday. Killer hadn't even closed the door before a hissed, "Well?"

Kid was definitely in a mood. It didn't bother Killer. Over the years he'd gotten used to his captain's explosive temper; it was easy for him to read and navigate around it.

"I've not seen her."

Irritation flashed over dark red eyes and they narrowed. A moment later the sound of a fist cracking against wood could be heard. Eustass "Captain" Kid stood, chair overturned, fist resting where he'd punched his desk. An angry snarl darkened his face.

"Then  _where the fuck_ is she?"

Killer stayed silent, stance relaxed compared to Kid. The Supernova let out an impressive growl, hands fisting tightly. His body was extremely tense under the heavy coat of maroon fur and gold. Murderous thoughts spiraled, grew, and sprouted. With such tension came an inexplicable hum. It was nigh silent but the telling vibration of every piece of metal in the room was evidence to what was happening.

It happened every time Kid got more than a little angry about something. His devil fruit was rather…unruly at times. It showed the most when he was pissed off as he would unknowingly send out a pulse of magnetic energy. It was harmless if you knew where every piece of metal was.

One of Killer's hands reached down to grasp his shaking scythes.

He waited.

It would end soon.

Kid glared at the black wood of his desk, the roiling pit of rage howling for blood. It slowly, ever so slowly quieted and he picked his chair up and fell into it. He was not happy, not even content. He wouldn't be until he had his dragon on his ship.

But the  _bitch_  was being stubborn. Kid sneered. "I want every damn crew member on the lookout. If she thinks she can hide from me," Kid picked up a metal cup, eyes looking it over calmly. His suddenly bared his teeth and crushed it inside his fist, "then she's  _dead_  wrong. I'll hunt that wench down."

Killer nodded before he turned to leave. His captain was an interesting man, only for the fact that he wasn't completely lost to his temper. No, under that thick layer of violence was a mind with the aptitude of forethought. He had an almost feral sense of intuition that had never led his crew astray. Along with that intuition was cold hard calculation. Calculation fit to brave the deadly seas of the New World.

Kid was strong. He was powerful but he knew his devil fruit wasn't almighty. The weapons harness he wore was proof that he knew his devil fruit wasn't invincible. It was this intelligence that earned Killer's loyalty. He would never follow a weak captain. Never.

Killer stopped on the deck, hidden eyes taking in the figures spread out over the ship. They all stared at him knowing he was about to speak. The orders were short, three words of instruction, but the crew understood the ulterior meaning.

"Look for teal."

_Capture on sight._

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**Day 2**

"Captain's done it again." muttered Spine pensively.

"What? Shot off your dick? You never had one-…"

A loud scuffle could be heard from the mouth of an alley. The two wrestling were a study of contrast. Spine, being the heavier set one, possessed a blonde mohawk. While on the other hand his weasel of a brother, Snake, was lanky in body and sported an orange mohawk.

The fight went on until Spine caught Snake in an armbar. The pressure on his arm had Snake wiggling and cursing. It had Spine laughing smugly.

"Care to tell me that  _again_ , partner?" Exceedingly arrogant and taunting. A Kid pirate all the way.

"Ah, go to  _hell_  you big  _bastard!_ And let me up or else I'll tell the captain you we're  _sleeping_  during your shift!" Snake smirked at his brother who had a pale expression. Not a moment later did he feel a fist in his shirt and a growled, "You better not! Asshole, I'll sneak snakes into your damn shower again if I have to!"

Now Snake was the pale one. It was a well-known fact and a running gag among the ranks of the Kid pirates that Snake hated…  _hated_ snakes. After a prank involving a drunk 'orange twin', a shower, and a bucket of harmless sea snakes the name had stuck.

Only because the man had squealed like a girl at gunpoint before running out of the shower naked and screaming like a pansy. Afterward the crew thought it funny to call him by the creatures name as a tease. It wasn't the crews fault that they forgot Snake's real name. They wouldn't have called him by it anyway.

"Fine, you overgrown sow rapist!  _Fine_ , I won't tell him but you owe me three more beers."

This incited grumbling from Spine who rolled off his older brother. Yup, the little orange shit had been born first. How that was possible Spine didn't know. As far as he knew all the brains were in  _his_  head.

The mohawk twins rose to their feet, a hefty scowl stealing over Spines face. "Nah, we can't hit any bars yet. You heard Killer yesterday! He wants everyone out looking for that wyvern sister. The one with the short hair that jumped captain." The last part was said with a leering snigger.

Both Spine and Snake had been supremely entertained at the sight of a  _woman jumping_ their moody scare-the-piss-outta-you captain. No one, woman or man, had had the guts to even approach Eustass Kid in such a way without pending immediate death.

The woman definitely had the spunk befitting that of a Kid pirate.

She certainly had the vocabulary of one.

Dusting off their clothes the two pirates walked through the alley that led to a main street. They had been out since early morning searching the lawless groves. It was now close to three in the afternoon and neither had seen a hint of teal.

Not  _anywhere_.

To say that over the span of forty-eight hours Kid's temper had thinned was a gross understatement. The man was positively  _seething_ with impatience. The lower members of the crew saw fit to stay well away from him while he was like this. If you wanted to survive around Kid for more than a week you learned real fast how to read his mood.

Those of his inner circle didn't worry much compared to the rest of the crew. They were veterans, senior Kid pirates. Besides being close to the captain they also held high positions that were essential to their merry band.

Spine was an expert hand-to-hand and marksmen. A sniper who could hit a bird sitting two hundred yards away. Snake was the Kid pirate tracker and rigger. He was the fastest body up in the ropes. More of a monkey than a snake.

"Wonder how long she'll last as a Kid pirate?" Snake said thoughtfully. Spine snorted, glancing at his brother behind dark shades, "Well, with what she did to the captain I won't be surprised if he guts her as soon as he gets her."

Snake shook his head, "I don't know. He didn't gut _me_. Captain's been known to throw curve balls every once in a while."

"It will be interesting, if nothing else, to watch."

The orange twin grinned at the blond. "Damn right!"

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Deep in the Heart pirate submarine, level 2, sat five men. They lounged in varying poses on bunk beds chatting amiably. It had been two days since they'd been out and about searching for the wyvern sister. Two days since Law had ordered everyone back to the sub. Such an order was the topic of discussion among the group.

"…Why do you think he's so set on getting her?" asked a man wearing a tan and green cap. He had shaggy blonde hair and a sturdy build.

A derisive snort echoed from the bunk above. "Who cares, Brodie! Don't you know a girl on board  _any_  vessel is bad luck!"

Shachi and Penguin rolled their eyes, bodies stretched out on their bunks. Across from them a short man sporting a gray beanie did the same. "The Whitebeard pirates have female nurses and nothing bad has happened to them." Gale, possessor of the grey beanie, exclaimed grumpily.

The man on the bunk above Brodie huffed, crossing his arms irritably. Wearing a dark purple Tweed hat was the chief wiseass of the crew. Nigel. "I still don't like it!"

"Ah, cut it out already. Bad luck ain't gonna stop captain from getting what he wants, Nigel. We all know how relentless he is." retorted Shachi with a laugh. Like Brodie he was an upbeat fellow who loved to joke and flirt. Especially flirt. But then again all Heart pirates were seemingly flirty.

Nigel rolled over on his belly to glare at the top engineer, "Why would captain want a…a-"

"Dragon?" supplied Penguin with a smirk.

"Yeah, a _bloody dragon!_ Why the  _hell_  would captain  _want_ a dragon in the crew?" Nigel spat, confusion and annoyance, darkening his features. The four other men stared at him dumbly from their beds. Their replies were fast incoming.

"Are you  _serious!_ "

"You did not just ask that?"

"C'mon, man!"

"It's a dragon."

Out of all four responses Gale the navigator drew everyone's attention. Nigel, who was a missile technician, turned to glare skeptically at his crewmate. Gale, who was actually not all that talkative normally continued, "In two weeks we're leaving for the New World. The sea controlled by the four emperors, we'll need all the power and resources we can get our hands on. A dragon would provide nearly unlimited possibilities and make our lives a lot easier. I agree with the captain, we need to find that wyvern sister."

Dead silence.

Shachi and Penguin along with Brodie and Nigel all gaped at their navigator. Gale never talked for long periods of time. When someone asked him a question all they'd get was the usual grunt or grumble.

Brodie blinked, face slack in disbelief, "Holy shit! Gale that was… five whole sentences! Who knew you had it in ya!" This boisterous statement had said navigator snorting before he grabbed his beanie and pulled it down over his face. That was Gale language for I'm-done-talking-don't-bug-me.

Penguin smirked over at a frowning Nigel, "And there you have it. Having a dragon will make  _our_ lives easier! So stop whining! I don't know how you can be against it? We're gonna have a _girl_ on board!  _A girl!_ I seriously can't wait!"

This was supported by Shachi and Brodie.

Nigel huffed, glaring at his pillow, voice quiet and moody, "Well…I guess she seems cool enough. Not to mention when she's a dragon. But I'm reserving judgement!"

Brodie, Shachi, and Penguin glanced at each other before shrugging in unison.

Now that matter had been resolved the four pirates moved on. "When do you think we'll go back out to look for her?" questioned Brodie, legs dangling over the side of his bed.

Everyone seemed to contemplate the question for a time.

"…Hm, well according to what captain said the dragon was hurt pretty bad last time we saw her. I mean she did get shot in the chest," All four pirates shuddered at the memory. No  _human_  would've survived that shot. "So she's probably hiding somewhere safe to heal. Captain thinks it will be three to four days before she shows herself." explained Shachi knowledgeably.

"Hmph, wish I could heal like that!" grouches Nigel in response. Penguin snickered while ducking a flying pillow aimed for his head.

"Don't laugh at me! It's a perfectly normal wish!"

"Sure, sure." guffawed a grinning Shachi from the bunk under Penguin. This was a favorite pastime among the three. Bug the ever-living shit out of Nigel. The man was as stubborn as a mule, and meaner than a badger. An easily riled badger.

Said 'badger' was glaring daggers at his three moronic crew members which had them laughing all the more.

"I hate you all!"

…

"Sure, sure."

Cue another round of laughter.

" _ARRGH!_ SHUT UP!"

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**Day 3**

"It's been  _three fucking days!_ Three! That bitch should be on this deck by now!  _WHY ISN'T SHE!_ " The voice had risen to an angry bellow; Kid was past his limit of patience. He wanted results and he wanted them  _now._

The Kid pirates had been called out on deck around noon only to listen to a very surly Kid. Loud and in a very foul mood was one Eustass "Captain" Kid who was currently grinding his teeth over the fact that none of his crew had even caught a _glimpse_ of the wench.

Not once.

He had two weeks before the log pose set, two weeks before he sailed off to the New World. Kid snarled at nothing in particular. He'd been under the impression that tracking down his dragon, who was weak and wounded, would've be easy. But the last three days were proof of just the opposite.

_That bitch would not escape_ _**him.** _

He'd track her down himself if he had to.

With a growl Kid whirled on his crew, "What groves haven't been searched yet?"

A very tall man wearing fish net leggings, black leather shorts, and a strange sort of chest harness stepped forward. He leaned calmly on his trident, dark eyes fixed on his captain. Standing nigh seven feet Wire held the title of tallest in the crew. Even over Kid's 6'5". He also held the position of Kid pirate doctor.

"I've searched groves 1 through 20. There was no sighting." Wire's voice was low and logical sounding. Calm.

It did nothing for Kid's mood.

The next man to speak up looked rather… dead in comparison to the rest of the crew. With pale blue dreadlocks and a corset-like chest brace Heat fit right in with the strange crowd that made up the Kid pirates.

His voice was a deep baritone, "She is not in the amusement park, Master Kid."

Blistering red eyes narrowed as they landed on the last search party. The mohawk twins. And they narrowed further at the negative given.  _Where the fuck was the bitch hiding!_

Kid's jaw clenched and he let out a growl of frustration. " _God fucking damn it!_ " Having no leads and making no progress proved to be too much for Kid's temper. With a furious howl he hurled his dagger into the wood of the mast. The fact that he was mauling his own ship only had his anger surging.

Teeth bared and lips curling into a wrathful snarl Kid stalked for the gangplank. His crew watched silently not even flinching in surprise when the dagger flew out the mast and out of sight.

Kid was at his most dangerous right now.

Only an idiot would mess with an apex predator.

Especially when that apex predator was on the hunt.

Killer stood still, mask tilted in the direction of the gangplank. His voice came out commanding, "Those who weren't out in search parties will watch the ship." And with that the first mate disappeared in a blur of speed.

Heat, Wire, and the mohawk twins headed for the gangplank; it was time to hunt.

The rest of the crew watched half in relief and half in self-pity.

They'd be watching the ship until the captain came back with the dragon.

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Sixty-four hours. Two days and sixteen hours.

That was how long the Heart pirates waited. And Law would wait no more. Isolated and alone in his personal quarters the Supernova found himself strangely impatient with the circumstances. He'd been restless with his own order but the reason was easily deduced. Anticipation. The seed of it had planted itself during his  _confrontation_ with Jillian. And it had sprouted with the simple utterance of _yes._

Law wondered if Jillian was even aware of what she'd given him. Oh, the secrets that one little word had told. The door it had opened. The anticipation only heightened the more he'd revisited the memory.

A memory he knew well.

He'd been set on meeting the legends that were the Wyvern Sisters since the broadcast. Had been set on gaining another member since the incident at the auction house. His decision to have Jillian join his crew hadn't changed but the interest, the drive had deepened.

Her eyes had been the catalyst.

In the memory they'd been wide and frightened by him, by what she was feeling.  _Arousal._  But that wasn't what had drawn him. Yes, it had been a contribution but it was the glint swimming within hues of cyan and turquoise that had caught his attention. There was something wholly ancient in that gaze of hers. And it pricked at his mind, made him question the scars he could so clearly see hiding behind a wall of emotion.  _Anger._

She'd buried them well. Yet, it was that anger that had led him to discover her secret. It was the mystery lurking in her eyes that made him so very restless, so very eager to see her again.

_Those eyes._

He wanted to stare into those eyes, to peel them apart and learn all their secrets. Law was not put off by the intensity of his desire, rather he welcomed the want as an old friend. He was a pirate after all. Pirates coveted things. He just coveted them a little more.

A small, dark smile stole over Law's face. To say that Law coveted Jillian was a pale statement. He practically _itched_ to have her in his grasp. To unravel her mystery, to educate her on what her body already knew.

Standing there, lean torso resting against his subs railing, Law decided he would not rush things. There were variables in this situation that were unpredictable and he had to be watchful of them. But he knew how to play the game of caution, like chess, one moved slowly.

Shadowed grey eyes beheld the dying sun. It was almost time. All he had to do was wait just a while longer. His first move was well into its stage of fruition. The audible sound of footsteps met Law's ears and that small smile became diabolical.

The Heart pirate captain stepped back and turned around, eyes taking in his two mechanics. With little to no ceremony he held out his hand palm up and waited. What was placed there had a spark of triumph curling around his heart. The expression on his face was one that had Shachi and Penguin shifting back a step warily.

Law would never intentionally harm his crew, so their reactions weren't from fear. They were only well-versed in what such a look meant.

He slipped what he held into his back pocket for safekeeping. The change came fast. In an instant, his manner became brisk, commanding. He stared at his two crew members sternly wanting their complete undivided attention. "Give the order to the others. They are to search for Miss Jillian but under no circumstances are they to approach her. When she is found stay out of sight and contact me immediately."

Law watched his two engineers disappear into the sub to relay his orders; he was satisfied with how things were going. Smooth and without delay. Law liked everything just so. He hated interruptions.

An eager smile curling his lips Law walked off, nodachi firmly planted on his shoulder. He soon faded into the nighttime crowd of Sabaody Archipelago.

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**Noon, Day 3, somewhere in Grove 70.**

_Tonight's dream?_

_A forest._

_Filled to the brim with shadows. Clawing, cloying shadows. They slinked out from the trees, from oak, birch, and ash. They hung from the branches, twisting and contorting ghastly. There was no moon. No light to illuminate the path I tread._

_Darkness was my only companion._

_Nothing was discernible, not when I was surrounded by thick wood on all sides. And I was_ _**alone.** _ _On that path I was vulnerable. If something was out there hiding in the trees you'd never know it was watching you. Walking in such dense blackness was like having all of your senses ripped away; like being blind, deaf, and mute all at the same time. It had my heart racing, an unfamiliar fear curdling in my stomach. Darkness had never scared me before, nor had a forest._

_However, despite that thought, I was scared._

_Something inside me recognized this place, found it familiar, found it_ _ **unnerving.**_ _And_ _it was cold. God, it was so, so cold. I was never bothered by the cold. It was refreshing. But here in this place of hollow despair it was a bane. Teeth chattering I brought my hands to my forearms and rubbed them fiercely; friction came from movement, heat came from friction. Yet, this simple logic failed to warm me. Those stupid goose bumps continued to plague my skin_ — _I froze as my hand slid over my bicep, feeling nothing. I looked down and paled._

_Where were my clothes_... _?_

_The importance of that question disappeared, because without warning, light appeared through the trees, the brilliance of it growing in intensity until I was blinded by it completely._

_What the hell?_

_When the strange light faded, I stopped breathing, and the slow weight of panic started to condense like tar in my gut, my blue-teal eyes widening as I took in my surroundings. Familiar surroundings_...

_Oh God!_

_Oh my fucking God!_

_No!_

_I had to get out of here!_

_The setting was a clearing, a blackened clearing, to be exact._

_In front of me were tombstones. Seven of them._

_They stood, stark and white, in the ground glaring at me with their marble surfaces. So clean, so pure, so innocent…_

_My breathing became irregular as I took in the sight, the forlorn aura, the ashen ground, the haunting stones. Staring at those seven graves, I felt like I had suddenly been shoved off my feet and plunged into hell. Because those seven graves would always be there, glaring at me, marble gazes accusing._

_They would always say, "It's your fault we're dead._ _**Your fault!** _ _"_

_I was looking at the graves of…Liberty's siblings._

_This was… Oh God. No, no!_

_Please, no!_

_**Why was I here?** _

_Why?_

_And then, it happened._

_Like it always did._

_My body started moving and I had no control. It walked towards those graves even as my mind raged and screamed. I struggled in the cage that was my body, feeling that same sense of desperation that swelled my entire being. It distorted reason and logic, made me deaf to everything but the word_ _**escape** _ _._

_I had to stay away from those tombstones._

_But my body never listened, never stopped, not until it had walked past six to halt at the seventh._

_Any semblance of sanity flew out the window, and the only thing I could hear was something akin to the sound of thunder cracking the skies. I stood there, too close, way too close, watching with slowly widening eyes, my breathing fast and shallow. Somewhere in my mind I knew what was coming. Knew what I would see. It didn't stop the horror, the terror from seizing me._

_And then I leaned forward. My pale hand reaches down and grazes the smooth marble, tracing the edges and brushing away the vines of ivy that cover it. As the strands of flora are removed, my hand falters and falls away. My heart stops, my lungs stalls._

_For inscribed on marble…_

Skulley J. Liberty

Beloved friend and sister.

_NO!_

_My gut twisted violently, and next thing I know I'm lurching sideways, retching, choking, sobbing. My eyes, no longer on the words before me, but staring at the ground, blurred and overflowed. Everything gradually became colder, and those six other tombstones began to whisper._

_"She died because of you, because of him. Because you weren't strong enough. Your fault, your fault, your fault."_

_I felt so very pathetic than; everything seemed to still and glare at me. Everything._

_But I wasn't numbing; I still felt the effects of reading those haunting words._

_I felt like a monster._

_Oh God. I was a_ _**monster.** _

_M-my best friend is dead because of me!_

_My hands flew to my head, gripping my hair tightly, scrunching my eyes, sinking to my knees._

_Sobbing. Screaming._

_"Sorry! I'm so so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry_... _"_

_I needed to get out of here. I needed someone. I needed_...

_It was my fault._

_**It was my fault.** _

_Four words. Four little words that damned me._

_Four little words that had me staggering away._

_Away from the accusing stares, the carved writing, the seven graves._

_Seven graves that would rot on my conscience till I burned in hell._

_It was my fault._

_I fell to the cold ground and screamed._

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Jillian broke the surface screaming.

Which was abruptly cut off by choked gasping. Water in sore lungs did _not_ feel good to the terrified and groggy. And Jillian was both. Limbs flailing wildly, loud splashes echoing in her ears, Jillian struggled to stay afloat. In her current state of mind all she registered was the panic of her sudden awakening. The hot blade of fear brought on by her night terror left her trembling and dazed. That coupled with the fact that she was surrounded by water had her instincts all over the place.

Where was she? How long had she been submerged?  _Why_ was she submerged in the first place?

And why did her body ache so fiercely?

These were questions she should've been asking herself. Questions that were essential to the strange circumstances. But she couldn't bring herself to care, not when the memory of  _that_  place still roamed the planes of her mind. Still dripped poison in her ears and hissed words of damnation across her conscious.

Jillian swallowed, mouth impossibly dry and disgusting. Her throat felt like sandpaper and her head felt like cotton.

_It was cold_ …

Blue-teal eyes widened at that thought; it stirred the fear in the pit of her stomach, had her struggling for something solid.  _Ground._ She had to find land, had to find something stable in this hellish limbo she was trapped in.

Disoriented and frenzied Jillian thrashed for the nearest shoreline. It was seven or so feet away yet for Jill it was a veritable mountain to climb over. But determination born of sheer desperation had her stroking and beating the currents to touch land. She was utterly exhausted when her hand finally grasped dirt and sand. It was pure instinct that had her pulling herself weakly out of the water. But it was purely her body that said  _no_  further and with a tired sigh she collapsed.

Jillian lay there, weak and sore for reasons that escaped her, and prayed the shadows clinging to her mind would go away. Prayed her past would stay buried.

It was  _cold_. She flinched at the realization. Those words stirred the den of her memories. A den she'd rather leave untouched. But the cold was seeping into her skin, and so was the wetness—but the numbness was also setting in, slowly, thankfully. Numbness was her salvation, without it there would be too much to handle, too many emotions, and too much regret.

Without it, she would be lost.

She never wanted to be lost again.

Jillian's heart was in so much pain. After such a dream how could it not? ( _She's dead, she's never coming back)_. So much grief ( _my fault, all my fault_ ). A big part of Jill was already crying, releasing all the agony left over from the night terror. It wasn't possible for Jillian to hold it in. She wasn't that strong. Not anymore.

So she lay there and cried. She let it out, wave after wave, until there were no tears left to cry.

And when all was said and done Jillian rose to her knees. It was a painstakingly slow process but Jill knew for a fact that she couldn't stay here. Now that she'd released all her emotions the horror, the night terror was finally relinquishing its hold on her mind. It was receding back to the pit of darkness lurking in the depths of her subconscious. Rationality returned but so did her memory.

_The gunshot in the auction house._

_Pain._

_The clearing._

_The fake Kuma._

_The dare_ …

… _Law._

Jillian stiffened, senses suddenly alert and straining. Would that man be lurking like the shadows in her mind, would he be hunting her too? Jillian sincerely hoped not; there was very little she could deal with in such a fragile mentality. All she wanted right now were some warm clothes, a hot meal, and a nice bed to sleep in. No marines, no shitbags, and  _definitely no pirates_  who invoked weird sensations.

And weird sensations were a big  _no-no_ to Jill. Especially when said man had a scent like ambrosia.  _That_ was just another thing that was forbidden in this world. Humans weren't supposed to smell so…so  _enticing!_ It made no sense!

There was no Gifted who smelled half as good as Law did.

Frankly, it wasn't fair! He was  _human._

_Stupid Supernova!_

Jillian scowled tiredly. She didn't want to waste thought on that overbearing asshole. With a huff Jillian shoved the man out of her mind and focused on her priorities.

She needed clothes as it was improper to go walking around with just bandages around ones chest. It left her feeling exposed and Jillian did not like the feeling. It made her feel vulnerable. Then she'd go to a little out-of-the-way bar for some grub and grog. She could use both. Only when her stomach was full and her mind was comfortably numb would she surrender to sleep. Only then.

It was early evening. Nice, sunny, and with just enough breeze to keep the sun from being too hot. Jillian walked down a side street somewhere in the fifties. This part of Sabaody Archipelago belonged to the shipyards and the coaters that worked them. Besides the lawless groves this was one sector where you'd never find a noble. It was perfect, because it was easy to disappear in. Easy to become invisible with no questions asked.

The only downfall was getting there.

She'd woken up in a lake beneath a giant mangrove in the seventies. From what she could remember the fight with the fake Kuma had been near grove 12. That was quite a bit of ground to cover while injured. Jillian knew she'd been hurt bad by how sore her body was. The bandages around her hand and torso was just another piece of evidence. The only reasonable deduction for such distance was instinct. Flight instinct. Something had rattled her enough to the point where she'd fallen back on pure dragonic drive. Run and heal. Hibernation.

A Gifted will hibernate when extremely injured. This includes finding a secure spot and falling into a deep slumber. For a Gifted it is no ordinary sleep. More of a stasis in body and mind. Hibernation stops all function in order for maximum regeneration. Depending on the severity of the wound a dragon could be down for over two days to two weeks. But one thing was for certain; Jillian absolutely  _hated_  hibernating. She could not escape the night terrors trapped within her own mind.

Waking up so close to the marine headquarters only made it worse. Being wet, half-dressed, and emotionally exhausted made it ten times harder to slip past people unnoticed. As if it wasn't already hard enough with bright teal hair and a nearly topless chest. Of course, she'd attract unwanted attention. It was just the unwanted attention _wanted_ her behind bars and not in her pants.

Jillian didn't know which one was worse.

She'd forgotten the number of marines she'd incapacitated on the way to the shipyards. As out of it as she was stealth just wasn't on the menu. In her current mood she was too tired, too listless to care. If someone had a problem with her they'd get a swift jab to the heart. Or the throat if she felt sadistic.

So here she was walking down some random street, wearing new clothes, and searching for a bar that wouldn't care about her identity. The less people who interacted with her the better.

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Half-hidden at the end of a small street, with wide dirty windows on either side of an equally filthy door, The Rusty Boot was scarcely one of the more attractive pubs to visit in the shipyards. It certainly wasn't the place for those looking for loud music, chaos, and bar brawls. Honestly, the bar, stashed away in its shadowy niche in the fifties suited an older more weary crowd.

Though quite small it still held a variety of liver poisons to choose from: beer, brandy, rum, gin, ale, wood alcohol, wine, liquor, spirits, moonshine, rye, bourbon, Scotch, sherry, champagne, whiskey, booze, lager, stout, porter, pilsner, malt, mead, vodka, tequila, aqua vitae, Tokay, claret, muscatel, sauterne, retsina, sake, vermouth, and numerous other liquids that could just as easily have a lightweight flat on his ass.

However, the choice of beverage was only one perk of The Rusty Boot. The gruff bartender begrudged any marine and so kept a Den Den Mushi on hand to listen in on any conversation. This quirk had endeared Jillian to the old man behind the bar. He'd stolen the snail from a drunk officer years before and he'd been using it ever since. Easy way to keep watch for any activity that might prove dangerous. She could relax a little while sitting within the musty, dim, and all around quiet bar without the threat of the World Government. Thank God!

And right now that was all Jillian wanted to do. Relax. With all she'd been through she _deserved_ a break. When she was well rested with no bodily pains she would begin to search for her best friend. Jillian would not sleep until Liberty was by her side again. She _had_ to find her or risk having another night terror.

She only had them when she slept alone. And with Lib absent she had to form other options.

Over the centuries Jillian had formulated ways to cope with her nightmares in such situations; drown them with drink and, with luck, dance them straight to hell. It probably wasn't the  _healthiest_  solution out there but it worked for her. Plus, it took a lot more booze for a dragon to die from liver failure then a human so she wasn't worried of an overdose. If it meant drinking herself under the table to escape a night terror she'd do it every night. Fuck hangovers.

"I wanna 'nother one." As of right now it was late and Jillian was delightfully buzzed. The warmth in her stomach made her comfortably lazy, but it was stuffy. With a sigh Jillian undid the ties to her new cloak, throwing it over the seat of a nearby stool. Dirk, the bartender, wouldn't care that she was taking another seat. She'd been at the pub for hours and had already formed a friendship of sorts…

If nothing else he was a good listener on the rare occasions she felt like saying something.

Dirk nodded curtly, drawing a bottle half filled with a clear liquid. Vodka. He walked over to where she sat at the bar, grabbed her glass and topped it skillfully. Not one drop was wasted. Of course, it was a  _sin_  in her mind if vodka was wasted. So she was happy as can be when he spilled  _nothing_.

"You really like the vod, eh? I won't pry about why you're here but you look like you need it. So drink up, it's on the house."

Jillian only blinked at the old man slowly, body swaying gently in her seat. On any other occasion she would've rejected the show of generosity stubbornly. But tonight Jillian was in the habit of not caring for anything. Such was the mood induced by a night terror.

To show her gratitude she knocked back her glass and took a long swig. The vodka burned its way down her throat to pool like liquid heat in her stomach. It added to the warmth already there. A drunken smile curled her lips, slit eyes glazed and half-lidded. Her brain was fuzzy and blissfully blank.

Just what she was aiming for.

Blank.

An hour passes filled with quiet conversation between bartender and Gifted. The bar has steadily become occupied with its nightly regulars. Every one of them old and tired from a hard days work, ready to sit back with some grog and cool down. It was this calm atmosphere that slowly bled the tension away in Jillian causing an almost unconscious change in her demeanor. But it allowed her to further relax with a quiet crowd around her, men who didn't care to know why she was there. Even in her drunken stupor Jillian liked the little bar as well as the people in it. They didn't care to know who or  _what_  she was. The experience of not having to hide her appearance when among humans was quite _liberating._

Jillian sipped at her vodka and lime gingerly, elbows planted for balance on the counter. She was well-versed on her drinking and knew when it was time for some support. Too much experience with falling off stools had taught her to ground herself. With all the alcohol she'd consumed getting off the ground would be a problem, getting back on her stool would be nigh impossible without help.

Jillian didn't like asking for help even while she was drunk.

A grunt in her direction had the Hellfire looking up lazily, dilated eyes meeting those of Dirk. "Wha?"

Dirk frowned rather fiercely, eyes slanting away after a moment of mutual staring. In a rough voice, "Ya got someone watchin' you. Been starin' for awhile."

With that said he left to go attend other drinkers. Dirk didn't get involved with business, especially when it dealt with a Supernova. Oh, he'd recognized the man who'd stepped into his bar alright. Knew enough not to tangle with the wrong sort and the  _Surgeon of Death_ definitely counted as the wrong sort. Though the gruff bartender did have a passing thought of worry for the lone female sitting in his bar. She'd come in worse for wear, strange eyes wide and disturbed, body so tense Dirk wondered when it would crumble from the pressure. So it was only fair that he felt something akin to wariness when Trafalgar Law walked in.

Dirk didn't like the look of the man. There was something about him that put Dirk on edge. But it wasn't any of his business, and to put it simply, he liked living.

Jillian was at a loss. Someone was  _watching_  her? Why? Who?

It wasn't a marine…

Dirk would've started something if it had been. The man hated them almost as much as she did. Almost.

So if it wasn't a marine… then was it a pirate?

Jillian frowned, eyes trained on her shot glass. Thinking was proving to be a chore. She didn't want to think. Huffing sluggishly Jillian slumped over the counter; she'd come here to get lost in her drink. Caring wasn't in the description, so whoever was staring could go on staring. They weren't bothering her so why should she care.

Sonneillon B. Jillian was close to dozing off when the scraping of stool legs irritated her sensitive ears. Groaning into the worn wood of the bar Jillian tilted her head to glare moodily at the perpetrator.

A man had taken up residence on the stool to the right of her. She couldn't really see much of his face as the light in the bar was rather dull but he was wearing yellow…

A strange uneasy feeling stirred at the sight which made Jillian frown. It was just a color. Yellow wasn't dangerous. So why was she feeling so weird then? Jillian leaned back slowly, eyes narrowed in an attempt to see the man sitting next to her.

There was… snow on his head.

"Th' hell?" Oh yeah, Jillian had  _no_  verbal filter between her mouth and her mind when she was under the influence. None  _whatsoever._ Head lolling to the side in confusion Jillian did the only thing that was on her mind.

She reached out to touch the  _snow._ The man was taller than her so she had to use one arm braced on his shoulder to reach his head. A strange noise articulated Jillian's growing confusion when her brain registered what her hand was telling her.

The snow on the strangers head was warm and… fluffy?

"What th' fuck?" The smashed Gifted glared at the hand touching the _snow_ as if it was the sole manifestation of her confusion. In Jillian's intoxicated mind all she was computing were four words.

"Snow 'an't be warm." Her voice was slurred but still on the coherent side of things. Still understandable.

"It's a hat, Miss Jillian." If Jillian wasn't so drunk the slow mocking tone lingering in the voice beside her would've insulted her greatly. Anyone with enough sense would know not to talk to Sonneillon B. Jillian as if she were a child. But this reflex was supremely dulled down by the alcohol in her system. No, what did happen was a curious sensation in Jillian's navel. It was such an odd sensation that it immediately had Jillian recoiling back to her seat.

The feeling didn't resemble the warmth in her stomach, no, it was lower and twinged in a way that was almost painful. To the simple logic of a drunk person anything that didn't feel good was bad. Hence, Jillian removing her tipsy self from the stranger. Another piece of simple logic was to ignore anything that wasn't recognizable.

And that included the man, his voice, and that oddball feeling. Well, Jillian  _tried_  with the feeling, it wouldn't go away. But it was a passing irritation that vanished beneath another swig of vodka.  _Glorious_  vodka.

Yet, the man was not to be deterred.

Jillian was just about to knock back her glass again— …Wait, were those _fingers?_ With a surprised squeal she jolted sideways, the action did nothing but make the room spin dizzily. It was safe to say the hand tangled in her hair was the _only_ thing that kept her from falling.

Blue-teal eyes narrowed, couldn't the fingers see she was trying to  _ignore_  someone. They weren't helping. Since Jillian had a very  _sensitive_  scalp the hand wrapped around several strands of her hair was impossible to disregard.

She just wanted to be left alone with her vodka.

"Lemme 'lone," she grumbles, voice drenched with muddled resentment. A pause is all Jillian is given before the hand in her hair tightens and  _pulls_. Her head is turned and tilted toward the man and held steady. The movement wasn't sudden like the first surprise, there is no struggling, merely a soft titter of drunken nonsense.

The hot moist breath against her ear is like an ice-cube down the shirt. It shocks a gasp out of her and has that curious feeling blossoming with heat. Heat that has her shifting nervously. It merges with the warmth in her stomach, heightening the catharsis. Jillian is completely overwhelmed by the sensation that overtakes her body. It is unfamiliar, and so very, very  _hot._

Hot is good. It chases away the cold, the memory, the past.

The heat pooling in her belly is stoked higher when she hears the voice again. It is smooth like velvet and Jillian likes velvet. "It's not polite to ignore someone, Miss Jillian."

Said Gifted glosses over the words, fuzzy mind focused solely on the sound. It is the sound of the man's voice that causes the feeling. Jillian shivers, she needs more of it. She doesn't want it to stop.

There is nothing but the solemn chinking of glasses and murmurs for a moment. It doesn't last.

Warm lips. It is the brush of warm lips against her ear that has Jillian's eyes widening slightly, glazed pupils dilated, and a full body shudder jolting her like static electricity. It is the feeling of warm lips against her, touching her, that has the pool of heat  _clenching_.

It is delicious.

It is even more delicious when the voice returns, "What did I say about ignoring, Miss Jillian?" The effect is instant and explosive. The heat clenches  _tighter_  and it is beyond Jillian's power to stop the quiet moan from slipping past her lips.

Unbeknownst to Jillian the man smirks. The moan didn't escape his notice and the pleasure he feels at inducing it is insidious.

Spirits, the  _heat._ Jillian's inebriated mind is lost; it is lost to the fire running rampant in her veins, the coil of ecstasy in her navel, and the man's voice. She's not ignoring him. She can't.

She doesn't want to.

Abruptly, the hand resting in her hair wrenches forcing Jillian to lean closer to the man. The pain of the position is like a spark in a hurricane. There and gone. Jillian stares.

And stares.

And stares some more.

Grey eyes. She's staring at a pair of grey eyes. The man had brought her closer to him so she could see his face. Oh, she could see it alright. If Jillian had been sober she would have run a long time ago.

The Gifted didn't move, didn't scream, and didn't react in the normal sense.

Of course, there was  _something_ in Jillian that recognized the man as Trafalgar Law. But like everything else it was delayed heavily by the crippling amount of booze attacking her faculties.

So what did she do? She started talking bullshit. This was the usual tactic for any drunk person, except any drunk person wasn't highly aroused while wholly unaware of it.

"Th' fuck're you doin' ashhole?" And to Sonneillon B. Jillian bullshit very easily led to anger. And anger coupled with arousal made for a very unpredictable Jillian.

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Trafalgar Law is  _delightfully_ amused right now. With the help of the Vivre card it was ridiculously easy to track down his errant crew member. Far be it to be said that Law had expected to find Jillian in a bar. In a bar and  _smashed_  out of her mind. He'd expected many things when he found her but in a bar wasn't one of them.

Seeing her slumped over the counter with a half empty bottle of some clear liquid and a shot glass in front of her was only the start of his entertainment. She was fun to watch, and even more fun to analyze. Law loved to read people; he loved to observe all the little intricacies that seamed an individuals personality together, as well as all the hidden quirks that were usually kept away from the public eye, and right now Jillian was giving him an amble opportunity to do just that.

The pub he'd entered hours before was dark, musty, and on the decrepit side. But it held enough alcohol to keep the customers happy. Law could feel a grin spreading over his face. Foolish little girls shouldn't drink alone. Especially in Sabaody Archipelago, it was  _dangerous_. He'd make sure Jillian either drank with him or with his men when she became an official Heart pirate.

It took all of two hours for Law to become bored with watching. He wasn't satisfied with sitting on the sidelines anymore. He wanted a more  _hands-on_ experience.

The Dark Doctor rose from his seat and sauntered over to Jillian, ideas and actions dancing through his mind. With her like this there were countless options. No one would stop him, not even the bartender who'd been sneaking glances his way for the better part of an hour. There's a scalpel in his back pocket, one he carries with him at all times. Would she notice if he used it on her? Would she let him? His mind had raced with questions about her anatomy for some time. And he was positively _itching_ to unravel the differences between that body of hers and his. Dragon and human.

Law couldn't wait to get her back to his sub. But such desires were for later. Right now with her so close, sitting all small and petite on the stool before him he found he couldn't resist the urge to touch her.

He claimed the seat next to her, smirking when he deliberately pulled the chair out loudly. Law was aware that Jillian had very sharp hearing and only smirked wider when she turned to glare at him. It was totally worth it when he got to see those eyes of hers again. And this time he could look at them all he wanted. There were no interruptions or battles to draw his attention away. The teal of her eyes had, surprisingly, dimmed. Law attributed this to her alcohol consumption. Unlike a human pupil Jillian's eyes did not dilate normally, instead the pupil seemed to grow smaller. It was a mere line of black surrounded by turquoise and blue.

Law is  _fascinated._

Before he could lean forward for more study Jillian _moved._ The Heart pirate captain went very still. It was a rather novel experience really. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him so freely besides the usual bedroom partner. Between whores and those he was killing  _no one_ came close to him. Not of their own free will. So it came as a surprise when Jillian lurched towards him, using his shoulder as a brace, to touch his hat. The soft weight of her against him was a match to his rapacity.

It didn't take much for Law to remember the dare and then things grew  _pleasantly_  warm. Jillian was very drunk, the proof of this was blatant in her carefree motions as well as her topic of discussion. He knew for a fact she'd never come within a foot of him if she were sober. It had the ever-present smirk on his face stretching devilishly.

Only a drunk person would confuse his hat with snow. The randomness of the declaration amused Law to no end. Yet, having something he wanted so very close proved to be too much for the surgeon. And Law wasn't one to deny himself _anything_. No, he got what he wanted and damn anyone who tried to stop him. Her hair looked too inviting for him to pass up.

Who could refuse such an opportunity, anyway. On his travels he'd seen many hair colors but Jillian's took the cake. Normal hair did not glow, simple at that. He compared the illumination to that of a firefly, bright in its own way but subtle in its light.

Tattooed fingers curled themselves into wavy teal tresses.

There is no reaction to his advance, not until he wraps the loose strands around his fist. Law chuckles at the squeal that erupts from the wyvern; it is even funnier when she tries to escape him. The surgeon is sure Jillian would've careened off her chair if not for his hold on her.

His wyvern huddles down in her seat, hand gripping her shot glass tightly. It is not hard to see she is woozy from moving so abruptly. Her body hadn't stopped swaying since he'd first entered the bar. Idly, Law wondered how long Jillian had been drinking. If she was this tipsy it was no wonder she was dizzy.

Law catches the mumbled hiss from his soon-to-be crewmate; it was an order…

Worse, she seemed to think she could _ignore_ him. That was two strikes against her, two too many. Even if Jillian was under the influence she would learn not to cross him. The hand buried wrist deep in teal locks tightens; Law felt no remorse when he jerked her to face him. The quiet whimper the action garnered did not soften his merciless grip.

An idea that had been present since the clearing surfaced in his mind. It was an interesting one, a sinful one. Law's lips stretched into a smile of wicked anticipation.

Jillian was here, drunk, out of her senses, vulnerable, and  _completely at his mercy_. He could do  _anything_  to her.

Still smiling evilly Law leans forward and blows hot air over the pale skin of Jillian's ear. The reaction he receives has giddy excitement curling his gut. Jillian is a virgin. And  _untried_  virgin.

A virgin completely  _oblivious_  to what was happening to her.

Jillian had no clue whatsoever that she was aroused.

Law reveled in the fact that he could drag out responses so effortlessly. He was aware that she was quite smashed, but that didn't change the fact that she was aroused by him. The soft gasp, the shudders, and restless shifting of legs; it was easy to see his effect on her.

He wanted to see more of it, this power he held over her. Law would never allow a chance like this to get away from him without it being wholly exploited. And, oh, did he exploit it. Fingers tightening, he pulled the woman closer to him. She was bent in such a way where if she  _wasn't_  flexible the position would be painful. Good thing Jillian appeared to adjust to the pose marvelously.

If Law was entertained by the earlier reaction what he does next supersedes it by far. The Surgeon of Death leans down, smirking all the while, and caresses her ear with his lips. The skin is very soft. Soft and malleable.

It is a passing thought but he wonders if the rest of her is as soft and malleable as her ear. He reckoned it was.

The Heart pirate captain is teeming with masculine satisfaction by the time he hears the second moan. It is a quiet wanton sound, breathy and unbidden. Grey eyes darken with something monstrous, something hot and dark and sexual. But Law is no stranger to sex, nor is he a stranger to desire.

The impulses thundering through his blood are ignored and disregarded. Now was not the time to act on such base instincts. Though, he continues to stoke and enjoy the fire raging beneath Jillian's skin. That was a treat he would not deny himself.

Law wants to see her eyes again, wants to gaze into the mosaic of teal and blue so alien to his own. He is finding himself hopelessly enraptured with them. For a time this strange fixation had disturbed him. But now he is welcoming the urge. For who could deny such rare gems set in a face of pale marble. He was a pirate, and pirates loved rare gems.

The Dark Doctor forces the head of teal curls over to him, she doesn't struggle, but a soft groan of discomfort is heard. His grip does not loosen. Meeting those feral eyes sends a jolt of heat hurtling to Law's loins, a most pleasurable sensation starting up that  _almost_  had  _him_  groaning. The potency of his own reaction to a simple eye-lock is noted and put away for later rumination.

He stares into the blue-teal eyes of Sonneillon B. Jillian, she stares back. He doesn't even think she is blinking while looking at him. And just like that instance in the clearing Law can see the change.

It is a miniscule shift in demeanor. A slight sharpening of the eyes Law would've otherwise missed if he hadn't been staring at them so intently. Shockingly enough the teal around the pupil brightened. No dimness remained.

A moment later, "Th' fuck're you doin' ashhole?"

Law had to smirk at that one. She was drunk and yet her speech was still recognizable.

What a broad question to ask. There were so many answers, so many things he could  _do_. Most of which would've had a sober Jillian running for the hills. He did nothing untoward.

Law might have been a pirate but he did not condone rape. He saw no benefit in dominating an unwilling, sobbing woman. Where was the fun? So, no, he would not take advantage of what Jillian was offering, it was an offer given senselessly in the first place. It would be a hollow victory.

If nothing else, Law saw an opportunity for information. She'd been drinking, after all; alcohol was famous for loosening the tongue.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, Miss Jillian?" Law steals the shot glass from the woman's lax fingers, watchful grey eyes noting the flush of red appearing because of his theft. Whether said flush is from anger or embarrassment only God knows.

"Little girls shouldn't drink alone." Jillian scowls moodily at him, hands gripping the counter sideways, the knuckles turning white. Law can feel the pressure she is exerting through the tension of her hair. Despite the pain she must be in he does not release her; if she wanted to put herself through pain in a futile attempt to get away from him she could.

It was no skin off his back.

It was entertaining to watch her pant and whimper when the throbbing of her scalp became too much. The sound was music to his ears. But no matter, he'd use this time to assuage the questions whirling around in his head.

"Why are you not in bed, Miss Jillian?" The question is pronounced slowly for better understanding. Holding her in front of him Law can see the overly pale features, the drooping eyelids, and the dark bags he is so familiar with. Insomnia possibly, or maybe something else.

His question finally seems to penetrate that hazed mind of hers and the reaction is startling. Jillian jerks back from him so fast that he is nearly torn from his seat. If Law hadn't grabbed his nodachi as a counter-weight he probably would've flown forward with the force of the recoil. There is a choking, gasping noise coming from his wyvern followed by whining and head shaking. Furious head shaking.

Law is caught off guard when Jillian retracts her hands from the bar before digging them claw-deep into her temple. The move is shocking in the fact that Jillian doesn't seem to care that she is rending bloody lines down her skull. Law immediately reaches out, freeing both hands of their grips on hair and sword, and grabs her wrists, pulling sharply down so that he can hold them in his lap. The nails are tinged red. He opens his mouth to ask her what in the hell she thinks she's doing when she starts talking rapidly.

The Surgeon of Death tenses at hearing the stark fear in those slurred words.

"I can' shleep, not after _it!_ I's gotta stay awake, gotta drown tha nightmares. Can' 'til I'm done wif tha grog. Gotta drown 'em. Can' see 'em 'gain! My faults!"

Trafalgar Law sits, listening intently, mind racing with all the new information. The mystery of Sonneillon B. Jillian deepens. Nightmares. Could nightmares be the reason Jillian is sitting alone, so late at night, drinking her sanity away. Is he seeing the result of a possible routine, the aftershock of a nightmare. Does she drink herself to hell every time a nightmare blackens her slumber, if so, he wonders at the state of her liver, and wonders just how often these nightmares grace her dreams.

Another pressing question stems from the last part. Her voice had a very notable crack at the end. What was her fault? And who were the ones she didn't want to see again. Law frowns. He doesn't like so many questions and so little answers.

"Tell me about your nightmare," Law says, voice low and firm with command.

Her reaction comes faster this time in the form of a choked snarl. Blue-teal eyes glare at him, the glint in them impossibly deep. A literal abyss of darkness. The threat doesn't faze Law. He is too distracted by the gleam hissing at him from slit eyes.

Her voice is just as turbulent as her gaze, "Why th' fuck shhould I? Like I need you to know 'bout my fuckin' nightmares, bashtard! Stay in 'our  _own_  w-world." It is a warning, it is an order, and it is a show of blatant defiance.

Law is decidedly displeased.

"You are a Heart pirate now, Miss Jillian, and I am  _your_  captain. You will have to accustom yourself to following my orders." His hands tighten around slim wrists, he doesn't want her slipping away from him if she gets angry. The memory of his dead arm is still fresh in his mind. He is not familiar with the style she used but it is close to that of pressure point fighting. Only more efficient.

More  _deadly_.

It is easy to deduce that Jillian's hands are dangerous; his grip on them remains bruising. It only takes one mishap for Law to learn his lesson.

The woman practically laying in his lap bursts out laughing, the sound strangely weak but scornful nevertheless. " _Pirate?_  Me not a pirate! And accushtom myself? Fuck you, ashhole. No one my captain. No one. I's submit to no one! Not you, not  _him_ , not the world gov…govers…Not the marines!"

"Go 'way," she mutters a second later, head lowered to where it is almost brushing his chest. Law stares down at her, grey eyes arctic. He doesn't care to be ordered around, not by anyone, and especially not by his own crew. Although, he will have to retain that particular lesson for a more sober dragon.

"Not without you, Miss Jillian," is his reply, smirk back in place.

"M'not your damn crew member, jackass." It is mumbled into the fabric of his hoodie; Law's smirk widens with relish, grey eyes twinkle slyly.

The surgeon bends down, that sinister mouth of his whispering softly, " You will be."

The sound that reaches his ears is drowsy and slow. Sluggish. With all the alcohol in her system it is no wonder Jillian is crashing down. He'd been waiting for it actually.

"What was that, Miss Jillian?"

There is a long silence afterward, and Law is of the mind that his wyvern has fallen asleep. Yet, her voice warms his chest again. It is so very, very quiet that he is forced to lean down just to hear it clearly.

She is sobbing.

The warmth he feels is not from a heated exhalation but from tears.

"Don' say tha. Please, don' say tha. You's sounds like 'im. I don' wanna-…I feel hot n' weerd. Please, don'…"

The quiet plea in that voice is heart-wrenching but Law isn't a man known for his compassion. He takes this statement in with a detached expression, though a curious one.

Who does he sound like?

He would ask such a question but the window of opportunity is ending. Law can sense it, can feel it in the way Jillian's body is losing tension. She is slowly surrendering to the effects of alcohol consumption.

It wouldn't be long until he had a lap full of sleeping dragon. Law doesn't sit idle in wait for such an experience. He releases her wrists, pushing her away so he can rise from the stool.

He is sober so his movements are fluid and graceful. Even though Law is seen as a cold, merciless man he is careful in gathering the woman up in his arms. He takes very good care of his crew and that includes Jillian. There is no protest from his cargo as he turns to face the bartender. Dirk, if he remembers correctly, is watching him closely. Dark gaze conveying something that might have been a warning.

Law stares back without blinking, voice smooth and filled to the brim with menace, "I want to know where a suitable bed can be found, you will tell me where, Mister Dirk."

The tension between the two immediately has the pub going dead silent. Having a Supernova around was dangerous, having a pissed off Supernova around was suicide. The bartender of The Rusty Boot seemed to contemplate his words for a moment before a calloused hand pointed to a staircase behind the bar.

"Up there on the right."

Law doesn't say thank you as he disappears up the stairs.

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The woman cradled in his arms is soft and small. So small in fact that he can hold her  _and_  his nodachi easily. She weighs nothing to him as he climbs the stairs to the second floor. With a kick of his boot the only door on the right swings open. The chill in the room has Jillian whimpering, petite hands clinging to his hoodie covered chest. The smile on his face is all heat and sin.

With another kick the door slams shut. It takes two strides to bring Law to the side of the bed. The sheets appeared clean if a little dusty. Normally this would irritate Law who liked things clean and neat but his attention was solely focused on the female in his arms. A moment later sees Jillian tucked beneath the blankets, teal head planted on the pillow, blue-teal eyes half-lidded and glazed and staring at him. The image she makes has Law wanting to join her. Badly.

Law sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, briefly wishing that this was  _his_  room she was sleeping in. Not only would she be in his sub, but she'd be safe and away from the prying marines. At that thought the surgeon feels a pang of discontent hit his stomach. He'd rather not leave her here, but he would not deviate from his plan. Jillian had already shown competent fighting skills so he wasn't worried about her being caught by the World Government. What he was wary of was _her_ ; would she disappear from Sabaody Archipelago when she woke up? Would he have to hunt her down?

If she did run, he'd be there to show her where she belonged - on his crew and below him. Law wouldn't dare let someone as valuable as Sonneillon B. Jillian escape his grasp. He would be a fool to allow such a thing. And he definitely wasn't a fool.

She'd rebel against him, of course, but it didn't matter to Law either way; Jillian  _would_ join him in the end. He would give her no choice.

Law stands over the hapless form of his wyvern. He doesn't feel like leaving yet; she looks too tempting on that bed for him to leave her alone. So he climbs on the bed with her, body straddling lean hips, and tattooed hands on either side of her head. Jillian does nothing, no struggling, no growling, nothing. She lies there beneath the dangerous Supernova and stares up at him with lazy, back-lit eyes.

The look in them is unreadable but it has molten lava pooling in his groin nonetheless. He knows she isn't doing it on purpose, she is a virgin after all. And virgins were nothing if not modest and shy. But the 'bedroom' look was potent on her, it was hot, and it made Law want to take her to the mattress to relieve the tightness in his pants. He doesn't, instead, he buries his nose in her hair and inhales deeply. His wyvern smelled off wind, heat, and peaches. How wind and heat could have a scent Law had no clue but it fit the description.

Wind, heat, and peaches. An interesting combination to be sure.

Such a scent is quick to stir his desire, that dark pit of sin that has Law shifting in further discomfort. He is even quicker to rein in his need before he does something he'd later regret.

"When I have you back on my ship," Law whispers huskily against Jillian's neck, "you'll become very familiar with my touch…" A tan hand lowers, stopping to land on her navel. He rubs it slowly, sensually, waiting for the reaction, "here."

He doesn't have to wait long. The body beneath him shudders, shivers, and a soft moan echoes around the room. The sweet sound has Law wanting more. He is  _addicted_. Should he decide to sample a taste of her? Would his control allow it?

Law stares, they are pale pink, slightly parted, and too tempting to be safe. The Dark Doctor wants her, right here and now, he would like nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her. But that is his desire talking and right now he wants it to be silent.

When and if he took Jillian she'd _remember_ it.

He refused to take an unwilling woman.

Being a pirate, he wouldn't mind stealing a taste. He smiles to himself, twisting his hands so that he can grab the ends of her hair and tilt her head back. Those slit eyes continue to watch him; it widens the already smug smirk on his face. Without hesitation Law takes her mouth in a rough kiss, holding her still when she jerks back. He swallows the whine that vibrates through her mouth. Law wouldn't be surprised if this was her first kiss. There is quite a bit lacking in participation on her side but that is alright. He has plenty of time in the next two weeks to coax a better reaction from her.

Law is positively _purring_ with satisfaction when he pulls away, massaging the girl's scalp with long fingers. He brushes his lips over hers a second time, enjoying the sharp gasp. He lets his tongue taste the sweat at her temples next, and inhales the wind-heat-peaches smell he has come to find very attractive in the last three minutes. He is  _burning_. He wants to push it further, push  _her_  further.

The Surgeon of Death slides his hands down Jillian's sides, lingering over the dip of her waist. The sheets prove no obstacle. The heat of his palms sears through the thin material, has her trembling against him, her breath gasping as Law rubs his thumbs into those spots that force her to react. The hips of a woman were sensitive.

Blue-teal eyes grow wide and startled at his touch; Jillian can do nothing against the sensations bombarding her psyche. Can do absolutely nothing to stop the cries slipping past her lips like carbon dioxide. Law is ruthless in his ministrations and it isn't long before Jillian is moaning and writhing from his caresses.

It isn't long before it becomes overwhelming.

"S-stop. I…I can't!" It is a half-moan, half-sob that has Law pausing in his assault. There isn't a shred of remorse in Law's expression. Not one. He is rather proud that he can make her cry out for him so deliciously. What will she be like when he takes her for the first time? To have command over the fire beneath her veins, to get it raging into an inferno. It was something Law was slowly starting to look forward to. But he'd wait, he'd have to, or else he'd risk ruining the chance of her joining him willingly.

He didn't care for her hate but it would make things easier in the long run if she were  _loyal_ to him _._ Only then would he take her to bed.

With that thought he retracted his hands from the gasping pile of feminine mush. His wyvern cries out and goes stiff as a board when Law lowers his lips to hers a third time, kissing her languidly for a long moment before sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and biting down hard enough to sting. It has Jillian releasing something between a growl and a moan. Interesting.

Law prevents her from pulling away by fisting a hand at the back of her head again, a sufficient way to keep her from escaping. She does not open up to him but he is not discouraged. Law consoles himself with memorizing her lips and her taste. If he'd been addicted to her smell it was even worse when it came to the taste of her.

Warm and sweet her lips were.

The surgeon takes one last pull, suckling her lips, caressing them with his teeth, before he withdraws. Oh, how he wants to go back. Law can't help but smirk devilishly at the look on her face, drinking in her shock and her wide blue-teal eyes as she stares at him with her mouth ajar and her lips wet and bruised from his attentions.

Law is amused by the slurred yelp of "No, wait!" when he leans down again. It is not to kiss her but to murmur in her ear, "Come morning, Miss Jillian, I will _find_ you."

Acting on one last impulse Law runs his tongue down his wyvern's throat, smirking when he hears her gasp, and hisses, " _You are_ _ **mine**_."

With that he leaves the room, closing the door silently behind him.


	7. Run Forest Run!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everybody!!! 
> 
> Enjoy! Review! And eat lots of food!! Please! Lol! XD

 

_"He's the devil in disguise, oh,_

_you better run for your life!_

_Gives you feelings that you_

_don't wanna fight. You're_

_runnin' and tryin' and tryin'_

_to hide, and you're wondering_

_why you can't get free! You_

_better take it from me, that_

_boy is like a disease! Oh, you_

_better run for your life!_

**Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood**

**Day 3, late morning, grove unknown.**

Skulley J. Liberty groaned, rolled over, and flopped on her side with a sigh. She was comfy as can be. Who wouldn't when you were spread out on a cloud. A soft, fluffy,  _warm_  cloud. Lib did so love warmth. It made the world go round, at least, it did for her.

She  _hated_  the cold. Hated it.

There was no cold here. Thankfully. Only her, the cloud, and-…wait, what was that?

Brows furrowing over closed eyelids Liberty shifted over to the side an inch. There was a weight near her that she slowly was starting to become aware of; it was more than just a blanket or a pillow as it was emanating its own warmth as opposed to echoing hers.

Even still very much asleep Liberty could tell, subconsciously, that someone was there. Someone as in a person; a living, breathing, _human._

… _Human_ …

That one word coalesced into a battering ram; it forced its way into her mind, breaking down the sluggish security of sleep. The veil of slumber was ripped off with the remembrance of  _danger_.

It was nigh suicide to fall asleep near a human, especially if they were unknown. Unknown meant death to a Gifted.

Like a bucket of ice water over the head Liberty's mind was awake and alert. Her senses came to life, taking in scents, and imputing information. But Lib did not move a muscle. If she  _was_  captured moving would be the last thing she wanted to do. She did not want to alert her captors that she was awake.

_Shit, fuck, fire! And I was comfortable too! Arrgh!_

Liberty cursed the person who'd caught her. Her immediate situation could be blamed on Hibernation. And that she couldn't remember ever finding a secure place to heal. A Gifted _had_ to find a safe enough spot before their body shut down. If they didn't…

Well, she was a prime example of what could happen.

_"_ … _Next time scent before you attack!"_

The entrance of a loud mental shout nearly made Liberty jolt forward. It was unexpected but the epiphany in those words had Lib pausing in her frantic scheming. Then she remembered; Jillian had said that to her after her blind attack in the clearing. With a mental blink Lib repeated the sentence over in her head. Her brain was still somewhat sluggish after its hasty awakening after all.

_"_ … _Next time scent before you attack!"_

Jillian had always been the better of the two with their senses. It wasn't her fault that she was a act-now-think-through-things-later kinda dragon. Though, it did get her into trouble quite often, the latest incident being her jumping in front of Jillian back in the clearing. Liberty immediately stopped that train of thought. She didn't want to remember what happened, it was too much, too fast.

Her body was already aching from the Hibernation and she didn't need a trip down memory lane when all it would bring was horror and pain. She had too much to worry about without recounting her near-death experience.

Like for instance the human by her side.

Liberty let out a quiet breath, body going a touch more tense. Slowly, ever so slowly Lib inhaled through her nose. The feedback was instant and shocking.  _Female. Young. Hatchling._

_Okay, what?_

To say Skulley J. Liberty enjoyed being confused was a gross miscalculation. Confusion and Lib were like Lib and cold, they just didn't mix well, at all. So with confusion weighing heavy on her brow Lib opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the ceiling, made of smooth brown wood, and smelling like dead oak.  _Poor trees._

Next, came the sight of a fluffy comforter, in other words, the  _cloud._

And after that were two big brown eyes and—

Liberty reeled back with a shrill squeal of fright. Mind seized in startlement she couldn't stop herself from falling off the bed she'd been sleeping on. It was with a painful sounding thud that she hit the ground followed by groaning and an, "Ow."

Rubbing at her head gingerly Lib lay on the ground, limbs tangled hopelessly in blankets. She didn't want to move because frankly her body felt like crap. A whole new bout of tension assailed her when a giggle met her ears.

This tension wasn't from fear, rather it was from perplexed surprise.

Sitting there on the ground surrounded by the unfamiliar brought Lib fully into the waking world. The giggle she'd heard from the bed had her instantly going over the facts.

Grown men - marines - didn't giggle, not unless they were gay. She wasn't bound in any way which was good for killing the idea that she had been captured. Waking up to being a hostage would've sucked.  _Fuck God, thank you Spirits!_ Her nose was telling her the same thing her ears were; a little girl had been the weight against her. Why there was a little girl in the room with her was unknown but the situation wasn't obviously dangerous.

It was only a little girl, a  _hatchling_. Well, that's what a Gifted called a young one, anyway.

Still nursing her noggin Lib slowly canted her head backward, those big brown eyes coming into view again. For awhile it was silent, Liberty staring up while the child peered down. Then she giggled again.

Brown-teal eyes mirrored the smile on Lib's face at hearing the happy sound. The girlish giggling continued followed by a childish voice, "You sounded like a puppy! Hehe." The voice was high-pitched and youthful; completely innocent. And hearing it was all it took for Liberty's heart to melt.

The Tri-horn  _adored_  kids. Especially if they were orphans. Orphans held a special place in her heart.

Skulley J. Liberty cautiously sat up, slit eyes watching the girl crouched on the bed. The hatchling appeared to be around the age of eight or nine with wide brown eyes and a mass of dirty blonde hair. It was very  _nostalgic_.

Brown eyes and blonde hair.

_That's what she used to look like_ …

A generous head shake banished that thought; it was stupid to think over things that couldn't be changed. Lib didn't like thinking about the past. It was final and no one could change it. To distract herself Lib asked the first question on her mind.

"Who are you?" Talking was like eating sandpaper, not fun, a little painful, and really dry. Her voice was raspy and hoarse, her mouth resembled a cotton field, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. So it was only fair that her words came out sounding like that of a lunatic. No amount of saliva was going to save her now, she needed water. Or milk. She'd prefer the milk over the water actually.

Another giggle echoed around the windowless room catching Lib's wandering attention. The Gifted looked back only to see the nameless female on her belly, small hands holding up her head, a big smile on her face. Big brown eyes twinkled.

"I'm Maiyuu! Oh, wow! Your eyes are really, really pretty! They look like cats eyes! I've never seen anyone with eyes like yours before. And hair too! I really, really like your hair! Lots of people have my hair color so its boring. I wish my hair glowed like yours!"

The giddy barrage of flattery probably would've bugged any other person. Lib took it in stride, even seemed to welcome the fast paced talking. A wide smile decorating her face Liberty did her best to voice her reply, "Nice to meet you Maiyuu! My names Skulley J. Liberty! Aw, thank you! I guess they do look like a cats, huh."

The little girl, Maiyuu, nodded her head vigorously in agreement. Lib laughed at the show of enthusiasm.

"So, Maiyuu, can you tell me where I am? I don't remember coming here at all, it's a little fuzzy…" Lib left it hanging hoping the girl would fill in the giant blank reigning supreme in her mind. She was more than a little curious (and worried) about what had happened after the fight in the clearing.

Maiyuu suddenly grew quiet, brown eyes shuttering, small body releasing a shiver that immediately sent Liberty into mama-bear mode. The toxicologist flew off the floor and on the bed faster than was visible. The first drop of tears was met by a warm embrace and a soft humming voice. Maiyuu wasn't consciously aware of the tune, it was new to her young ears but it was calming. Calming, serene, and gentle.

The lilting tune was successful in lulling the little girl back from whatever had distressed her. No hatchling could stay morose upon hearing Lib's favorite lullaby, Windsong; it was also a favorite among hatchlings. Actual hatchlings.

Lib continued to sing the song quietly, even when tears dried up, and brown eyes regained their sparkle. Once Windsong was started it had to be sung all the way through. Liberty didn't quite notice Maiyuu snuggling into her chest, face upturned to watch her pronounce the strange words. Strange words that had a hypnotic tinge to them as they floated into Maiyuu's ears.

The language wasn't something the little girl could understand but the feeling, the warmth, the tone of it created an ambiance of safety and security. The song slowly came to an end three verses later and the silence left in its place was filled with awe.

Skulley J. Liberty blinked, brown-teal eyes refocusing back to the present. Singing Windsong was like entering a trance for Lib, like something else was singing along with her, and together they were the only ones in the world. When the song ended it was always the same; she would suddenly be back in reality and everyone would just be _staring_. Lib had never questioned what happened to her during her singing, she didn't need to.

_As long as I can sing it I'm happy!_

"T-that was the most beautiful song I've ever heard in my life." The high-pitched voice had quieted leaving behind one filled with reverence and adoration. Maiyuu stared up at Liberty with big doe-like eyes, the smile on her face positively swimming with worship.

Said Gifted smiled widely, "Thank you! It's actually my favorite lullaby! I sing it just for the purpose of stealing away the fears little girls like you have! And it  _always_  works!" The smile widened when a giggle was heard.

Operation Stop Tears was a success!

Now Operation Find Out Where The Hell You Are is a go.

"Can you tell me what happened Maiyuu? I'm sorry my question made you sad."

The little girl gasped, eyes expanding comically. A moment later saw Maiyuu shaking her head wildly, "No! No, you didn't make me sad! I was just scared! I was out exploring when I found you in the forest and…and…"

This time Liberty smelled the tears, it was easy when she was as close as she was. Voice still slightly rough but soft nonetheless, "Hey, it's okay you don't have to tell me but I would like to know where I am."

The relief in the girls expression prodded at Lib's rabid curiosity but she ignored it for Maiyuu's sake. Whatever state she'd seen her in must have scared her bad and from what Lib could remember she'd been injured grievously. Plus the blood from her wounds would've made for a grisly sight. At that thought intense guilt condensed in her stomach, tightening it painfully.

If only she'd found a good place to hibernate away from prying eyes then little Maiyuu would've never had to see anything mentally scarring.  _Stupid! I am officially stupid! Dang it!_

"Oh, you're in my slave quarters. I had Unbachi put you in here so Gorgin wouldn't find you. He never comes to my room anyway." Liberty stared, taken aback by the hesitation in the girl's voice. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable with what she'd just said. But why?

Lib could see no exploding slave collar around the hatchlings neck.  _Thank God!_ It would've broken her heart to see such a sweet girl in slavery. The human world really was rotten. Well,  _Sabaody Archipelago_ was rotten. There were good humans if you looked hard enough.

The Gifted sighed lightly, arms tightening around the small body of the girl. Both enjoyed the contact more than the other knew.

"Who're Unbachi and Gorgin?" asked Lib tentatively, she didn't want to step on any sore toes.

Maiyuu's eyes widened happily, voice excited and upbeat, "Unbachi is my caretaker! He doesn't talk much but he's really nice. He helped me bring you here after I…found you. He's really strong and tall too! You'd like him, oh and he has pink hair! Though, I don't think he likes people talking about it," Maiyuu leaned closer to Lib, voice in a whisper, "he's really, really sensitive about it."

The girl cast a quick glance around the room as if checking to see if the man had heard and was lurking around for revenge. It was quite funny to Lib who let out a laugh at the girl's antics.

"And Gorgin?"

The mood suddenly became somber.

It was only made worse when Maiyuu lost the happy smile, the twinkle dying in her brown eyes. Lib was dismayed at the change, even somewhat shocked at the speed of it. Only Jillian could kill her expression like that. Such a comparison was disturbing.

This little girl shouldn't have anything to frown about, shouldn't be able to drown her features in sorrowful blankness like her best friend. A skill like that she knew only came from suffering. Terrible suffering and the need to hide it from everyone.

Liberty's heart clenched at that. So young and already scarred by something.

_Just like_ …

When Maiyuu spoke next there was no tone of happiness, none whatsoever, only quiet trepidation, "He's a noble and m-my father." Short, reluctant, and very dispirited. Lib could tell there was more to it than that but whether she should press hung heavy on her conscience. She chose another topic, hopefully a happier one.

"What about your mother?" asked the Tri-horn with a smile. The atmosphere seemed to darken further with that inquiry; Liberty's smile fell flat on its face when she noticed her attempt at distraction had failed. Were both her parents sore subjects?  _Damn, damn, damn!_

A slave to her guilt Lib instantly tried backtracking.

"I'm sorr—"

"N-no, it's okay. I…I, well, I'm…I mean she's a s-slave," Maiyuu looked down, brown eyes pained, "and I-I'm not." It was a confession and Lib recognized it for what it was, however, Maiyuu's voice had been ashamed.  _Why?_

Little girls shouldn't feel ashamed about  _anything_ , at least, not when they were Maiyuu's age. Liberty couldn't remember being so young, so innocent, so  _naïve_. But something, having to do with her parents, apparently was cause for such emotion.

Lib stared down, face confused and melancholy, as she took in the depressed form of the little girl. There was something vulnerable about how she was sitting, something weak; it tugged at her heartstrings insistently. Why was she not a slave when her mother was? The curiosity to know was nearly overpowering, yet guilt was still the stronger of the two. She stayed quiet.

The silence mounted between the two women, each waiting for the other to speak. In the quiet Lib's thoughts flourished, grew loud and speculative, until, with a mental gasp she came to the answer. Came to the reality of the situation.

Skulley J. Liberty didn't know whether to hurl or snarl. The world, no, Sabaody Archipelago was  _disgusting_. Humans were disgusting. She, along with all the Gifted, could not comprehend the notion of 'owning' one of their species. It was a gross practice. Humiliating, inhumane, and oppressive it was and more often than not she found herself  _sick_  at the idea of slavery. Humans, she knew, could be overly cruel to their own species with little to no remorse.

Lib could feel herself growing cold, inside and out, at the thought of Maiyuu's conception. The circumstances weren't uncommon. Men were monsters who couldn't control their urges. Men, especially  _nobles_ , were  _rapists_. The good ones only came from good breeding.

And those were few and far between.

Liberty's heart went out to Maiyuu's unnamed mother. Her heart also went out to the little girl nestled against her. God, the things she must have endured in her short life, Lib could only imagine. It hurt to watch, to sit there quietly, and watch the play of anguished incomprehension on the hatchlings features. Lib knew for a fact that Maiyuu was too young to understand the horror of rape and the scarring that came with it. All that was understood was the anger, the depression of it, the cloud of agony that surrounds a person when they experience something horrific. Lib knew the feeling well; she'd become familiar with it since befriending Sonneillon B. Jillian.

To see that same debilitating emotion around someone so young was heartbreaking. Even worse was the thought of sequestration. It was easy to see that whoever this Gorgin was saw Maiyuu as more than an object. More than a possession. Liberty's stomach roiled uncomfortably.

Did Maiyuu even know her mother? Was she even allowed to see her?

The questions whirled around incessantly begging to be asked. And for once Lib's guilt could not defend against it.

"About your mo—"

**SLAM!**

The loud bang of a door somewhere in the distance had Lib yelping, sore body jerking back. She winced lightly as her muscles pulled. Maiyuu, however, had only flinched at the deafening sound. Big brown eyes widened; it wasn't hard to tell she was frightened by the noise.

Then the shouting started.

Lib felt a shiver spike down her spine. She did _not_ do shouting. Not when it was angry and  _this_  was angry shouting. Another yelp of surprise crawled up Liberty's throat at the sudden absence of Maiyuu. She'd left her embrace, small feet padding for the door on the other side of the bed. Lib hadn't even noticed…

"Hey, where are you going?" questioned the Tri-horn worriedly. That shouting wasn't friendly.

Maiyuu stopped by the door, head turned towards Lib. The smile she saw was  _shocking_.

It was Jillian's smile.

_Fake, burdened, haunted._

_Broken._

Liberty stared, brown-teal eyes wide, mouth ajar, completely speechless.

Maiyuu slipped soundlessly out the door without a word.

The smile never left her face.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

It had been twenty minutes.

She'd sat, anxiety and worry eating at her, on that bed for twenty straight minutes. That was a new record. Too bad Jill wasn't anywhere near or she'd be crowing about her triumph. Lib only felt sick with unease. It weighed her heart down, gripped her stomach painfully, and made her feel nauseous. She didn't know how much longer she could sit there.

Liberty had already scolded herself for letting the child go out on her own. Who in their _right mind_ would let a  _hatchling_  venture into a dangerous situation. A  _hatchling!_ She felt like a world-class idiot on so many levels. She also felt hopeless. Hopeless, scared, and frozen.

Hopeless, because she was in an unfamiliar environment with an unknown hostile lurking around. Scared, because she was still drained from her Hibernation and her body was sore as hell. If a fight came her way she'd be in trouble even with her use of poisons. And frozen, because she didn't know whether to rush off in search of her new friend or stay sitting.

Doubt was a horrible mental affliction. It corroded the senses, ate at ones sanity, and spawned second guessing. The deafening silence was worse. Lib detested silence. She thrived on noise, talking, laughter. Not this void of nothingness. It opened the window for doubts, for mocking voices, for shadows.  _Darkness._

There were no windows in the room.

One little candle wouldn't do it for Liberty. She needed light. Actual light. Candle flames created shadows; there was always something lurking in them, monstrous beings that lusted after her flesh, her sanity.

She couldn't deal with the dark.

She couldn't deal with the _things in the dark._

Liberty started to hyperventilate.

_No, no, no, no, no, no. I need Jill, where is Jill, think of Jill!_

Jillian was her rock. Her stability and strength when things went dark. Jillian wasn't scared of anything. She thrived in the darkness. When she was around Liberty didn't have to be scared because Jillian was there to fight off the crippling shade of night. It couldn't reach her.

But she was alone. There was no grumpy guardian by her side, no silent protector, no Jillian. No one. She was alone. Alone with the shadows. Alone with  _her fears_.

Something in her chest trembled, twisted, and burst. She needed…

Her body spasmed erratically. She needed…

Breathing grew shallow and frantic. She  _needed_ …

The shadows moved, danced across four walls, invisible claws lurching for the figure on the bed. Silent laughter, evil and malicious, racked over hypersensitive ears. The darkness leaped forward as if sensing her terror.

_JILLIAN!_

A silent scream ripped from Lib's mouth as the darkness took her.

She was gone before her head ever hit the mattress.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Sonneillon B. Jillian woke with a _jolt_ , sheets and skin sweaty, with an uncomfortable itch to her brain that left her gasping. Opening her eyes succeeded in blasting her sensitive retinas, the sharp sunlight ripping a pained cry from her numb lips. While she was generally a morning person something almighty had already ordered an extra side of hell for her; Jillian didn't feel so hot.

She wasn't even awake yet and the morning was turning out to be shitty. The Hellfire mumbled a curse. A lazy hand rose and plopped a palm over two scrunched eyes, they would  _not stop_ stinging.  _Ugh!_ Right then, Jillian wanted nothing more than to roll over and bury her face in the pillow. Sleep was  _heavenly_ ; it was also blissfully  _dark_  and silent and  _painless_.

Her tolerance for pain was in the negatives and her mood wasn't much better. Being sore after Hibernation always roused her ire. Waking up so  _nicely_  was just icing on the cake of her temper. Palm rubbing gingerly at her singed eyes Jillian rolled over to get away from the annoying rays running across her face. Stupid blinds.

Laying on her side, face in shadow, was just what she needed. The pillow was soft, fluffy, and  _smelled amazing_.

Eyes closed, body relaxed, Jillian inhaled slowly through her nostrils. The relish in her expression grew along with her smile of indulgence. It smelled…like…spice. No, there was more to it than that. Brows furrowed in concentration Jillian pressed her nose into the cushion harder. Inhaling deeply of the flighty scent she took it into her senses and analyzed it.

The scent, surprisingly, was  _new._

An additional sniff confirmed her presence was the only one in the room. So either she'd kicked out someone or they'd left in a hurry. The only thing that didn't add up was the course of events playing in her head. She couldn't remember…

But then  _that_  made no sense. Dragons _always_ remembered.

She knew she'd gotten drunk.

She knew she'd had a night terror.

And she knew she'd _–_ …What did she know that she was forgetting?

Jillian glared moodily at the mattress; something was eating at her brain, something important.  _What the hell am I forgetting, damn it!_ With a groan Jillian slumped back on the bed, it was way too early for such deep thinking. She'd rather bask in the silence.

…

There was something wrong with her. Something  _serious_. Maybe she'd lost her mind or someone had spiked her drink? Feeling agitated and not knowing why, Jillian sat up, lips peeled over sharp canines in a snarl. What  _was_  this feeling? Impatience? Anger? Never before had silence  _bothered_  her; silence was her element, her sense of calm. Instead, her body was racked with a strange sort of restlessness, anticipation, thrill even. It was disconcerting. Where was her calm? Was it really the silence? Was it something else?

She didn't recognize the emotion. Or better yet, she didn't recognize the  _sensation._

Alarmed, Jillian instinctively sniffed at the air again and promptly reeled back. That smell, the one on her pillow, was everywhere! God, it smelled delicious. Jillian couldn't stop herself from inhaling in the intoxicating scent.

The revelation hit hard and fast.

The first thing her mind came up with was static spice. A second whiff refined it into spice and lightning. Only the scent seemed more precise than that, sharper almost. So, she inhaled a third time, keeping the scent in her nostrils, picking out the nuances that made it so unique.

It smelled…warm. Like warm spice and…

And static.

No, that still wasn't right. Jillian scowled at the door. She'd get this scent down.

If it wasn't static or lightning it had to be something close. The charge of it was more… along the lines…of electricity.

Warm spice and…electricity?

_Ha, got it!  
_

Both her gut and her head agreed with those two. Good, so whoever was in here last smelled awesome. Woopty-fucking-do, she could go back to sleep now. Snorting through her nose, Jillian shook her head and laid down. Her eyes closed a moment later.

_("When I have you back on my ship," Law whispers against Jillian's neck, "you'll become very familiar with my touch…" A tan hand lowers, stopping to land on her navel. He rubs it slowly, sensually, waiting for the reaction, "here.")_

The explosion of heat, confusion, and horror is disorienting. Jillian could only stare, pale and shell-shocked, at the ceiling, stiff as a board on some _bed that wasn't hers._

Reality really was a bitch. Even more so when it played ambush predator. Because it had definitely ambushed her.

Oh my fucking God.

_Him._ He had been  _here!_

He'd been in the room with her!

_Oh Spirits!  
_

Warm spice and electricity.

That intoxicating, decadent, utterly mouth-watering scent belonged to Trafalgar Law. Trafalgar  _freaking_  Law! The Sea Spirits truly hated her. To give such a sinful scent to an utter bastard. It was downright blasphemy.

But God, he'd been in the room with her drunk out of her mind. Jillian shuddered at the memory. The huskiness of his voice, the  _promise_  in it, the touches, the kisses…

Surely this would be considered rape, right? He'd touched her without her consent! Jillian swallowed thickly. She didn't know what to do, how to deal, what to  _feel_  about what he'd done. It was too much to take in; too intense for the likes of her.

And what the hell did he mean by 'become familiar with his touch'? Just the thought of him touching her again made her want to hurl. He was an asshole. A controlling two-bit bastard that needed to learn personal space and common sense.

_(The Surgeon of Death slides his hands down Jillian's sides, lingering over the dip of her waist. The sheets prove to be no obstacle. The heat of his palms sears through the thin material, has her trembling against him, her breath gasping as Law rubs his thumbs into those spots that force her to react. The hips of a woman were sensitive._

_Blue-teal eyes grow wide and startled at his touch; Jillian can do nothing for the sensations bombarding her psyche. Can do absolutely nothing to stop the cries slipping out of her lips like carbon dioxide. Law is ruthless in his ministrations and it isn't long before Jillian is moaning_ _and writhing from the caresses.)_

Blue-teal eyes widen impossibly, pale face flushed red with mortification. In the quiet room brightened by the many rays of the sun, Jillian squirmed beneath the covers, fighting against desires she wasn't even truly aware of. What she  _was_  aware of was the mounting tension in her gut from so many devious images. They flashed across her mind's eye, loud and explicit. Sucking in a sharp, shocked breath was all she could do to stave off actually panting in panic.

A surge of something hot curled around the base of her spine. It shimmied up her back weaving shivers through her bones before free-falling down to her belly. The pool of molten heat it initiated had her clenching her jaw and pressing her thighs together. An involuntary shudder seized her at the action; a shock had her body jerking, lips parting to release a cry.

_W-what was that?_

What the hell?

Jillian went completely still, making an attempt to ignore her rapid breathing; the effort was futile. In this situation Jillian was at a loss, Law was right, she knew nothing about sex and its intricacies. Nothing about what was happening to her body-wise, nothing about arousal.

She needed to stop!

The images didn't, of course. Neither did her body.

_("S-stop. I…I can't!" It is a half-moan, half-sob that has Law pausing in his assault. There isn't a shred of remorse in Law's expression. Not one. He is rather proud that he can make her cry out for him so deliciously. What will she be like when he takes her for the first time?_ _To have command over the fire beneath her veins, to get it raging into an inferno.)_

Jillian swallowed hard, hands gripping sporadically at sheets; she was terrified yet there was an edge of…excitement to the fear. Where was the excitement coming from? She was deriving no joy from this, not at all!

A peculiar twinging centered around her navel had her inhaling sharply, and she was even more mortified when an actual moan slipped past her lips. _Red Alert!_  She had to stop  _now!_ Whatever Law had done to her, cause he'd done  _something_ , was totally  _wrong_. It was sick and disturbing! She should not be reacting like this!

She needed to sto—

_("Come morning, Miss Jillian, I will_ _**find** _ _you."_

_Acting on one last impulse Law runs his tongue down his wyvern's throat, smirking when Jillian gasps, and hisses, "You are_ _**mine** _ _.")_

You are mine.  _You are mine_. _ **You are mine.**_

_His._

The world abruptly tilted on its side for Jillian. She did not like that word. In fact, she  _hated_  that word.

Dark tendrils of instinct stirred, roiled, roared. Angry, hateful emotion rose with it, black as night, and beat back the strange sensations that ran rampant around her body. Fury. It hurtled through her veins, a different kind of heat, a familiar kind that she welcomed wholly.

Jillian was old friends with fury.

… _He dared_ …

Fury had never let her down.

… _He fucking dared_ …

It was her loyal companion.

… _He fucking dared to say that_ _ **to me!**_

And it would come when bidden.

_**He fucking dared to say she was his!** _

There was something dark manifesting in Jillian, an instinct, new, ugly, and vile. It clawed and struggled inside her, roaring angrily. Fury had _nothing_ on it. And the more those damnable words, those three words, echoed around her mind the stronger it fought. Against what was beyond Jillian's comprehension. It was a subconscious movement, a shifting of mentality. Jillian the fearful had awakened Jillian the defiant.

_You are mine._

She belonged to  _no one_.

And the resistance inside of her  _splintered_ , unleashing many, many years of rage and hatred and frustration.

A black demonic snarl ripped up her throat, slit eyes narrowed; there was a new predator lurking behind the blue and teal. A new instinct had awoken and it would  _not_  be  _dominated_.

No one.

No one would make her submit.

_Ever again._

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸  
_

Jillian sat on the edge of the bed, eyes staring off into space. She was aware that something had changed inside of her, she knew it was an instinct, but as to that instincts  _purpose_  she was lost. After she'd calmed down some, she'd taken the time to reconsider her situation. There were so many variables she had to worry about, it was giving her a major headache.

Lib. The marines. The Gifted. Law. _Him_.

Just one big headache.  _I hate headaches!_

But she had to tread carefully else she ruin all her work. And she could not afford any setbacks. None.

So there she sat in contemplative silence, cloak back in her possession; she'd gone down to the bar to retrieve it. Dirk, the bartender, had greeted her gruffly. She liked him. Too bad she wouldn't…

Jillian snorted at the thought. She promised herself she wouldn't think about it.  _Idiot!_

Slanting an eye over to the window Jillian took in the position of the sun's rays. Dragons had no need for clocks, they didn't know how to read them anyway. The sun was their dial. As were the stars, the moon, and the ocean. Jillian huffed, she'd have to leave soon, staying in one place had already been risky, but now with a Supernova after her she'd need to be more cautious than ever.

The anger she'd felt when she'd asked Dirk how her drunk self had gotten to the room above The Rusty Boot was explosive. The insufferable jackass had the  _audacity_  to carry her like a fucking  _damsel in distress._ Nevermind that any normal person would've seen it as a nice gesture. Jillian had never been normal though, so her reaction was appropriate. At least, in her mind it was. Everything having to do with Trafalgar Law in Jillian's mind was quickly being labeled  _taboo_  and words like  _brute_ and  _incorrigible soaplock_ and _bastardized rapist_. It only was fair that  _anything_  the man did was also in the range of intolerance.

_Like I need anymore on my plate you son of a bitch!_

With that thought Jillian climbed to her feet, hands reaching out for her pouch which she strapped across her back. The window was no obstacle for her claws, and the height (two stories) was nothing for her wings. Though, a full transformation was out of the question for a while, a partial change was within her ability. Hibernation had its perks as well as its consequences. It was a last resort for any Gifted injured enough to risk death.

A Gifted was considered lucky if they survived their Hibernation.

Most were found, caught, and killed.

Jillian was grateful that it was still early in the morning; not very many people would be out and about. She could roof-hop without threat of raising mass panic. It was with a flap of teal and granite wings that Jillian disappeared from the shipyards.

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Consciousness came like the tide for Skulley J. Liberty, with little waves of coherency that pricked at her slumbering mind. They slowly grew into bigger waves as one by one her faculties awoke. It was a tedious process, one met with the resistance of the dreaming. Those who knew the Tri-horn well knew that she was _not_  an easy riser. Far be it to be said that she was a morning person.

In the soothing darkness of sleep Liberty fought the current that aimed to pull her under. It worked for a while, however she lost the ability to stay afloat when a most curious sensation assailed her. The shock of it jerked her sluggish mind, ripping her away from her sleep, and plunged her head first into the waking world. Though, she did not open her eyes immediately, nor did she wake fully. No, it was more of an awareness of someone coming out of REM then actually coming out of sleep. But she was cognizant of what was around her, or more like  _who_  was around her.

If Liberty was any closer to being awake she would've furrowed her brow.

Why? Because someone was  _touching_  her. Petting her, really.  _The curious sensation_. It was…perplexing and…lulling. Such unexpected contact would usually garner a swift ass-kicking from a very, very pissed off Tri-horn wyvern. Nothing happened to the person running their fingers through her hair; her instincts were quiet for once. There was no danger nearby, thankfully.

It did feel…somewhat good…

Though, the touch seemed sloppy for reasons unknown to Lib. It just didn't seem right, like it was the wrong hand, the wrong person. But Liberty didn't grasp this consciously since the notion was buried deep within her psyche. All she was really aware of was the soft, repetitive brush of fingers over her scalp. It was distracting to a fault but then again, she needed the distraction. She needed something to take her mind away from  _remembering_.

It was a curse, remembering. Lib didn't like to remember, not unless it involved good memories. Hence, why she continued to lay quietly on the bed head tilted inconspicuously toward the fingers. Even though the touch was inexperienced it still managed to relax Lib in a way that had her purring. In other words, a growl that stayed in her ribcage and rumbled softly. The sound was subtle in its variation but many who heard it would call it purring.

Liberty was beyond caring. There were other animals besides the cat that  _purred_.

The brushing paused for a moment and Lib's ears perked upon hearing a giggle. A _familiar_ giggle. She knew that giggle. It was full of delight and joy. Youthful. Energetic. Childish.  _Maiyuu._

The hatchling with the fucked up father. She couldn't believe, well, actually she  _could_  believe how horrible the world was. Rotten, tainted, and filled with assholes and two-faced muckworm's with no compassion for anyone but themselves. Greedy bastards. People - nobles - made her want to rampage till she collapsed, particularly on their  _filthy_  rich asses. She'd just  _love_  to pick her teeth with a couple of their bones, maybe keep a few skulls as souvenirs or as ammo for when she got bored and needed something to chuck at other nobles. Bones always made for good prank material; nobles usually were thinned skinned enough to jump at anything scary. Perfect targets for pranking,  _evil_  pranking.

Involving heaps of laughter for her and misery for those rich mongers. Ugh, she could not stand them!  _Fuck nobles! fuck them all! Prank them to death! Hell yeah, that's how I roll because I am awesome like that!_

Another cute giggle met Lib's ears successfully pulling her out of her mental rant. It had gone on for quite a while. Nobles always got her going. Lib slowly cracked open an eye wary of light and its brightness of doom. Then she remembered there were no windows in the room she was in.

Both brown-teal eyes opened instantly locking with another pair, though they were far more human than she'd ever been. Dark chocolate with specs of amber described Maiyuu's eyes. They were rather close in proximity Lib noted with a blink. To put it simply her head was actually in the girl's lap, teal locks spread out on her little thighs. Up close her face was adorable with a splashing of freckles and a button nose.

The two women blinked at each other, eyes peering at the other intently. It almost resembled a staring contest. The quiet subsequently was fractured by abrupt laughter from both parties. They seemed to be unable to contain themselves as they chortled wildly, hands holding their stomachs and feet stomping the mattress. As to the reason for such loud expression, well, there was none. Skulley J. Liberty didn't  _need_  a reason to laugh; all the Gifted needed was someone to share in her mirth.

Plus, it was an ample distraction from all the shadows lurking in her brain.

Maiyuu worked wonders for her sanity. She was literally a light all on her own and she didn't even know it. Lib just hoped, secretly, that she wouldn't leave her alone again. She couldn't be alone, not when Jillian wasn't there. The shadows were too close to the surface for her to deal with. Laughter was perfect for driving the darkness away, perfect for security.

And laying there, eyes locked with Maiyuu's, wide smiles covering both their faces was  _exactly_  what Liberty needed to pull through. To push away her lingering fear and focus on the present. To  _awaken_.

Lib was nothing if not hardy when it concerned her faults. She dealt with them in any way she could which involved either running (lots of running) and using stronger people as shields (aka Jillian). Maiyuu was turning out to be a suitable replacement.  _Thank you Spirits!_

"You're so funny!" tittered Maiyuu around a giggle. The comment coaxed a smile from Lib. She was just  _so adorable_ how could she resist! Lib loved hatchlings! They were fun to play with and were especially fun to tickle.

Liberty's smile suddenly turned mischievous, brown-teal eyes twinkling playfully. "Oh,  _I'm_  the funny one? What about _you!_ " A squeak of faux fear spilled from Maiyuu's lips when Liberty  _pounced_  hands at the ready. A shrieking girlish laugh bubbled up next followed by many more. The Tri-horn was  _ruthless_  when it came to tickling.

It wasn't long before she had the poor girl writhing and screaming with laughter. Little tears flowing down her cheeks, small palms pushing against the onslaught of evil seeking fingers that poked and prodded at sensitive places.

"N-no! St-stop!" cried the child boisterously, brown eyes wide and happy. Lib laughed at her victims face, it was hilarious. "What do you say?" retorted the Tri-horn cheekily.

Maiyuu's eyes widened comically at the taunt, head shaking defiantly. "Uh uh, I won't say it!" gushed the blonde hatchling loudly. Retaliation was fast incoming, Lib would have her surrender in this tickle war. Like she weighed nothing Lib grabbed Maiyuu under the arms and swung her screaming into her lap. No amount of wiggling or struggling could save her now, Lib had her right where she wanted her.

A new bout of shrill laughter bombarded the room as Lib tickled Maiyuu mercilessly. The belly was always a tender target after all. It pretty much guaranteed a win.

" _C'mon_ , what do you say!" Lib couldn't stop the guffaw crawling up her throat at the hatchling squirming in her lap. She was holding out rather well. Not even her younger sister, Raquel, could stomach her tickle-fests for long.  _What a trooper!_

The girl was gasping around the force of her laughter now. Yet, still she refused to cave if the shake of her head was anything to go by. Lib had to give her some serious props. Her claws were perfect tickling weapons; they were by far better than any human nails.

It was about thirty seconds later that Lib finally saw the first signs of resignation. Pursed lips, scrunched eyes, and tense body.  _I so got you, Maiyuu!_  Liberty's smile was wide and only growing wider. She couldn't tickle Jillian, not unless she wanted a one way ticket straight to hell. So, it was only fair that she took full advantage of this romping around session. Liberty had never been one to pass up a good time.

"U-u-uncle! U-ncle!  _Uncle!_ " screamed Maiyuu with a cry. Lib nearly howled with her victory; it was so fun to tickle people!

Skulley J. Liberty pulled her hands back to rest them on the mattress. While tickling was always fun it sure took the energy right out of you. Lib fell back on the bed with a huff Maiyuu sprawled across her legs. Now it the time for a breather. They both needed it after laughing so hard.

"…I win."

A weak giggle shook the small body spread over her legs; it was a happy sound. Winded but happy. The Gifted was glad for that. It didn't take much to know the hatchling lived through hell. Lived through _reality_ and reality was a cruel mistress. Sometimes it was far more evil towards the children than the adults. Lib was happy that she could bring some cheer into this little females life. Spirits knew she probably needed it.

"Um…L-liberty…?" The meek hesitation in those two words had Lib perking curiously, cautiously. Luminescent eyes softened, maternal instincts kicking in; it was sad to see such a cute child afraid to ask a simple question. Lib's voice became breathy, coaxing, motherly. It seemed to have an immediate effect as Maiyuu's tense shoulders slowly relaxed.

"You can ask me anything, Maiyuu. It's okay."

The little girl shifted slightly, head of blonde curls turning to look up at her, the eyes underneath wide and vulnerable. They also shimmered with wonderment like she was awed at the invitation. It had something tightening in Lib's chest and she had to work at covering her grimace else she discourage her new friend. She hated seeing any hatchling sad or morose. Hated it even more to see them treading on eggshells around something so simple. It just wasn't right; kids needed to be happy so they could have happy memories when they were older.

"I…I was just w-wondering about the…song. You were really, really good but I didn't understand it at all. Please, sing it again! I'll be quiet, I won't say any—"

"Hey, hey, it's fine. You're okay. I was just being stupid when I sang Windsong before; I should've sang it in english so you could understand, huh? Kinda defeats the purpose of me singing to you right?" Liberty chuckled ruefully, "So, I guess I'll have to sing it again for you. Hm, Windsong is pretty much a lullaby about sleeping peacefully with nice dreams. That's why I like the song; it helps me get to sleep."

Maiyuu soaked up her words like a sponge, yet she stayed silent, eyes glittering brightly in anticipation. Lib noted this and wondered idly if anyone had ever sang her a lullaby before. Probably not.  _Pfft, I'm going to change that! No hatchling can live without hearing Windsong!_

Liberty lay back on the bed to get comfortable and inhaled deeply. When she exhaled a slow humming started up heralding the oncoming notes. Her voice was clear, trance-like, and low upon the first words…

_"Sing the song_

_Of the wind_

_When you know it's time and_

_Sing the song_

_Of the wind_

_When having sweet dreams_

_Sleep until the night ends_

_The wind of the night_

_Your song and my song_

_Our song goes on_

_The wind of the night_

_Your song and my song_

_Sing the song_

_Of the wind_

_When you know it's time and,"_

Lib's voice rose slightly in tempo, heightening her decibels in the chorus. Maiyuu looked properly awed at the lyrics, at the song itself. She'd never heard something more beautiful in her life. It was as enchanting as the first version.

_"Sing the song_

_Of the wind_

_(Sing the song of the wind)_

_When having sweet dreams_

_(When having sweet dreams)_

_(Sleep until)_

_Sleep until the night ends_

_The wind of the night_

_(Your song and my song)_

_Your song and my song_

_The wind of the night_

_Your song and my song_

_Sing the song_

_Of the night wind_

_When you know it's time and_

_Sing the song_

_Of the night wind_

_When having sweet dreams_

_Sleep until the night wind ends_

_The wind of the night_

_Your song and my song_

_Our song goes on_

_The wind of the night_

_Your song and my song."_

Skulley J. Liberty brought the song to a close with a smile. Singing Windsong always calmed her in ways nothing else could. It was the perfect lullaby; quiet, soothing, and it never failed to lighten things up. But she liked singing it in her native tongue way more than in english. The lyrics flowed better anyway. Though, Maiyuu, Lib noted, looked just as awed as the first time she'd sang.

"Oh wow! That was…was- I don't  _know_  what to call it but it was beautiful! I wish I cou—"

_Growl, growl, growl!_

Awkward silence.

A flush of embarrassment bled Lib's face red. She could not stop the tinge of color stealing over her features at the disconcerting sound of her stomach. While dragons didn't need food as much as humans did they still needed it nonetheless. And it seemed Liberty's stomach had finally had enough of being empty. It wanted food  _now._

Maiyuu giggled girlishly as another growl was heard, Lib grasping at her belly with a grimace. "I think its hungry!" laughed the blonde girl gaily. Lib blinked at the statement; she couldn't quite remember the last time she'd had a meal. _Oh, Jill would rip me a new one if she was here! Dang it, I forgot to eat again!_

The Gifted nearly yelped when the bed bounced underneath her, but it was only Maiyuu crawling to the edge. She watched her progress curiously wondering where she was going.  _No, don't leave again!_  The child wasn't going for the door, surprisingly, but she was heading over to a nightstand that Lib hadn't taken in yet.  _Another thing Jill would yell at me for. I'm not paying attention to my surrounding. Man, I am out of it._

Maiyuu hopped off the bed and called over her shoulder, "I'm sorry I didn't give you this before. I should've given it to you right when you woke up. I'm really, really sorry!"

Lib, of course, would've countered her words with assurances if not for the deliciously heavenly smell of edible something attacking her nostrils. The scent that exploded through the room filled her nose and permeated her brain; it was impossible to  _not_  drool. It smelled  _that_  good and she didn't even know what it was. Her stomach didn't care either way. If it smelled good, tasted good, and was edible than she liked it. _Oh my life would be complete if it was spicy. Please have it be spicy!_

Maiyuu had her back turned on her new friend busy with trying to grab the heavy tray laden with food. She did not see the ravenous expression coming over Liberty's face foreshadowing a monstrous appetite. She didn't see her move either when the tray started to tilt. The weight was a little too much for her small hands to carry.

The blonde hatchling gasped when she lost grip on the tray and gasped again when it didn't spill. Blinking owlishly Maiyuu looked up meeting the strange slit gaze of the older woman. She stood directly behind her with hands gripping the tray tightly.  _She's really, really warm,_ thought the little child fleetingly. It took nothing for Lib to lift the tray and place it on the bed before hopping on the mattress herself.

She did not dig in. It was rude. "Well, c'mon, you're going to help me eat this," exclaimed Lib saucily. The excitement for food was evident in her tone.  _Yay, yumminess! Come to me!_

It didn't take long for Maiyuu to jump on the bed, smiling and laughing happily, before digging in. The Gifted watched, brown-teal eyes intent and curious, as Maiyuu picked up a bowl full of steaming food and twirled what appeared to be noodles on her fork. They looked thin and  _oh so tasty_ but she didn't recognize the dish. Then again, there were countless human dishes she wasn't familiar with. There were so many!

Lib just hoped it tasted as good as it smelled. Mirroring the hatchling Lib picked up the other steaming bowl and dunked a fork under the broth. It was natural for her to sniff at the contents before eating something foreign.  _Food, food, food! Oh, that smells like beef! Yum, meat!_

Taking a bite was like she'd died and gone to the Void. It was heaven, no, not even heaven could beat this! It was sorta like spaghetti and meatballs, but instead of having sauce it had broth and the meatballs where flat and not round. Lib brought a forkful to eye level and stared; the noodles were long, slender, and nearly see-through.  _Like ghost noodles! Wait, what do you call this stuff!_

Swallowing a mouthful of the stuff -  _ghost noodles_ \- Lib asked, "What do you call this dish? It's really delicious!"

Maiyuu chewed her mouthful, little brows furrowing, and swallowed. A smile curled her lips, brown eyes twinkling merrily. Lib wondered if she'd missed something; it was all too easy to see the giddy mischief grinning out from brown eyes.

An eyebrow climbed into Lib's hairline when Maiyuu sniggered, actually sniggered at her.  _Sniggered!_  It climbed further when the little girl scootched over to her and leaned into her bubble.  _Okay, what?_ She was confused about what was going on.

Maiyuu sent a cursory glance at the door before facing her again. Her voice came out whisper-soft and oddly conspirative, "I think it's called something else but I call it Pho…," Maiyuu leaned closer and Lib got the feeling she was trying to be secretive. It was funny to watch, "because I heard daddy call it that. I wasn't supposed to be up but I couldn't help it! I was curious about the parties daddy has at night so I got out of bed and walked down the hall. On the way there I heard him in the kitchen, he was talking to the staff I think. The door was open a little so I peeked in to see what they were talking about. It was about some type of soup they were making, and I think the staff made it wrong which daddy doesn't like. He shouts a lot when things are wrong. I don't really remember what he said but before he slammed the door I heard him say _pho._ So I call it Pho."

Lib stared.

And stared.

And nearly sweat-dropped.

Only a little girl could twist a curse word into the name for a soup. Lib would be laughing her ass off if not for the fact that Maiyuu would probably take it the wrong way. It was still funny as hell.  _How the heck did she get pho from fuck you, or was it just fuck she heard?_

Lib shrugged at the thought and focused on eating the scrumptious  _Pho._

_Yummy!_

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The first mate of the Kid pirates stood tall on a ledge overlooking the marketplace. It was easy to spot an individual when one had the higher ground, hence his rooftop perch. He'd already scoured the forties for the wyvern sister so he wasn't looking too hard after the initial search. But in Killer's mind it was always wise to check leads thrice.

This left him standing on some rooftop deep in the shopping center, arms crossed, hidden eyes roving over the masses walking below. They had no clue he was there, absolutely no clue of the danger they were in. He could swoop down on any of them and cleave their bodies into bloody strips of flesh. But he wasn't going to; Killer was here on Reconnaissance, he could afford no distractions.

So he stood, hidden by height and shadow, and waited. The "Massacre Soldier" stiffened abruptly when the cacophony of shouting met his ears. It was high-pitched, extremely loud, and extremely  _familiar_.

The blue and white mask lowered and panned slowly over the crowd under him.  _There._

Tall, teal, and currently screaming at some random man held between her hands. There appeared to be two companions with her as they were standing within range of the Gifted. None of which were the second dragon. Good, Kid had expressed some annoyance about the shorter sister possibly putting a wrench in their plans to recruit Liberty. Having her absent gave them the opportunity to retrieve their new crewmate. In other words, persuade her to join. Whether they would be using force or not was totally up to her.

Killer knew it would be the latter. She'd already shown an aptitude for defiance and obstinacy; two traits that had doomed her. One, it was that gall that had first attracted Kid. Two, Kid pirates didn't bow down before anything. Third, the captain had to approve. And Kid approved alright.

Approved to the point of going out and hunting down said new crewmate. When his captain wanted something and that something denied him, well, simply put he did not take to it kindly. Kid was not a man used to failure, rejection, or denial. No one refused Kid. There was a reason he was the highest bounty.

Violent, bold, and harboring intelligence that slumbered behind his eyes. For as long as he'd been a Kid pirate Killer had always known Kid possessed a finely tuned perception. It was that perception, that foresight, that would ensnare the Gifted.

Killer watched the wyvern closely for he did not want to lose sight of her. Without looking away from his target Killer activated his portable Den Den Mushi. The creature was small fitting into a device wrapped around his wrist which he rose to his mask.

After a couple of rings a growled voice came through. Kid was in a foul mood.

_What?_

"Kid, I found her."

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It was surreal being this close to so many humans.

Lib couldn't remember the last time she'd been so immersed within human culture before. Maybe, there _wasn't_ anything to remember. Actually walking among them, listening to the gossip, seeing the interaction, and being  _down at their level_ felt very intimate. Not the sexual kind, Lib knew nothing of the sort, but the kind one feels when they're eavesdropping on a couple. It had been uncomfortable for Liberty at first, who wouldn't be in such a situation? Being a Gifted usually meant running for your life where humans were concerned. If they didn't want you dead they wanted to own you like a piece of property which wasn't very appetizing company.

It was a novelty in being able to walk as they did, see what they did, and act casual for a change. No running for your life or fighting for your life. It was really exciting and Lib couldn't quite keep the smile off her face as she walked beside her companions. Earlier that day during lunch Maiyuu had told her that she was accompanying Unbachi to the marketplace and had asked if she'd like to come. The question had caught her off guard, until the anticipation hit, of course.

So, there she was strolling though the crowded streets filled wall to wall with stands of everything imaginable.  _Too bad Jill isn't here she would've loved to people watch,_ Lib had thought while first entering the place. She'd been properly awed by the noisy coexistence and general chaos that would normally end in disaster had it not been a usual circumstance. Marketplaces were always hectic, always.

Humans themselves were naturally chaotic creatures, hence the shopping district was loud and chock full of boisterous, shouting louts who would've given Jillian a headache had she been present. Lib, however, thrived on the hustle and bustle like a starved Luffy. She lived with noise and action and merrymaking; it was an intrinsic part of Skulley J. Liberty.

"…achi look at that one! It seems ripe, right? It's really squishy!"

Maiyuu's inquisitive voice broke through Lib's thoughts like a hammer against ice. She blinked back the dots in her vision and stared somewhat dazedly at her two new friends. They huddled by a fruit stand comparing their choices; it was funny to see a pink-haired man picking out fruit with a seven-year old. Not to mention said pink-haired man was ripped as all get out. Normally, the Tri-horn would've been all over the strangely cute but awkward man, but this usual reaction to muscle was repeatedly interrupted by the image of  _another_  man.

One just as, if not more so, ripped than Unbachi. And he had soft hair…

_NO! No, no, no, no!_

Liberty shook her head furiously hoping the motion would shake that train of thought out of her mind. She  _did not_ want to remember, dang it!  _No remembering!_ Lib would rather die than to think about that…that…

_Urgh! Shut up brain!_

With another generous shake of her head Lib skipped over to her companions who'd already moved down several stands. She was in need of a distraction. Badly. She had no aspirations on being discovered, however, so hopefully said distraction wouldn't cause a scene. Plus, she liked being able to walk around without the need to constantly look over her shoulder, it got really tiresome at times. And Lib had enough trouble as it was; slapping another burden on top of it was something she did not need.

"Liberty? Liberty!" The Tri-horn jolted out of her thoughts again, eyes slanting down to look quizzically at an equally puzzled Maiyuu. Having the older females attention Maiyuu smiled hugely and held up something resembling a kiwano fruit. It looked plump and oddly tasty. The fruit was unfamiliar to Lib but she liked the coloring -  _it has yellow, red, and orange! -_ and the appearance of it.

The fruit looked like a giant spiky ball.

_Too bad Jill's not here! I would've chucked it at her!_

Skulley J. Liberty smiled ruefully at the thought; she missed her partner-in-crime. But it was a bad time to transform as the marines were still at large. She wanted to lay low for a while until things calmed down. Only when the World Government stopped being a pain in the ass would she go search for her friend. It was just not advantageous to act now, not when she was still sore from Hibernation. There would be trouble if she encountered a confrontation. Her body still wasn't back to full strength yet.

"…ike it?" The disquieted tone lingering in Maiyuu's voice had Liberty jumping back to reality. Mentally cursing she noticed her lack of response had dredged up an uncomfortable nervousness in the poor child. It was obvious in her brown eyes that Maiyuu was fearful of abandonment. Quietly, Lib sympathized with the hatchling; she knew all to well the feeling of abandonment. Of being ignored, glared at, and despised.

It was one of her old haunts.

Burdens.

Burdens that were best left buried.

Liberty leaned down, face solemn but encouraging, and murmured, "It's awesome. I bet it tastes as awesome as it looks!" She smiled hoping her cheerful demeanor would revitalize the melancholy hatchling.

It didn't take long for those sad lips to curl into an answering smile. Liberty's inherent personality was rather infectious with its emotions, it was even more powerful around kids. Maiyuu was no exception. Straightening up the Tri-horn made to grab the girl's hand; contact was powerful in its reassurance.

…

Somebody crashed into them.

The impact had Lib and Maiyuu tumbling to the ground faces frozen in shock. It wasn't an easy fall either as both women released identical cries of surprised pain. The ground was hard, dusty, and covered with gravel that bit at their hands and knees. Pain really wasn't an issue for Lib who was used to falling, tripping, and generally running into dastardly surfaces that wanted to 'do her in'. Maiyuu, unfortunately, did not have Liberty's tolerance; it was blatant to the Tri-horn when the little girl started to cry.

Which was a  _ **big**_ _no-no_ in Lib's mind. No one made hatchlings and/or children cry in Lib's presence. No one.  _What. The. Hell!_ In such a situation Skulley J. Liberty did what she always did, she went Mama Bear.

And with all the stress of the earlier fight, including Jill's near death experience, the dare,  _her_  near death experience, and to top it all off her utterly traitorous emotions. That was the kicker. From the moment she'd opened her eyes she'd been bombarded with sensation after sensation; she had no clue about what it was. She hadn't been poisoned, yet at times she nearly felt…aflame. It was rather disturbing.

What was even more disturbing than that were the images - thoughts - that triggered the frighteningly unfamiliar feeling. She'd done her best over the course of the morning to  _not_  think about  _anything_  having to do with pirates. It would only bring up more memories, more thoughts, and -  _shit, fuck, fire! -_ sensations.

To say that Liberty was good at restraining emotion, unknown emotion, was a lie. She was horrible at it. No, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the world to see. It was _her_ ,  _her_  personality,  _her_ , and she wouldn't want it any other way. Which was why she was secretly bowing under the pressure riddling her body; she was quickly approaching her breaking point. Though, Lib had never had much self-control in the first place.

So, when said stranger  _dared_  attempt a hit-and-run, Lib was right there grabbing the random man's collar to rip him back. She'd make him _pay!_  For tripping them, for not saying sorry, for her weird  _damnable_  feelings, for stupid dares, for dying friends, and for just being at the  _right_ place at the wrong, wrong time.

Liberty exploded on him.

" _You rude bastard!_ Are you  _fucking brainless_ or did it  _drop through your asshole_ last time you took a shit! Do you find it _funny_ running little girls over? Huh!  _God_ , I should _gut you_ with a wooden spoon and  _strangle_ you with  _your own bloody entrails!_ I  _hate_  people like you! I really do! You  _stupid dumfungled asshat!_ I hope you burn in the Void; no, the Void is  _too good_ for you! I hope you  _rot_ in Verdaron! It's perfect for  _carrion filth_ like  _yourself! I swear to the Spirits_ that if I  _ever_ see you around here again I'll rip your fucking arms off, stab you with them, play in yours guts, then feed your organs to my dog!"

Liberty growled at the helpless shaking man in her grasp, eyes narrowed furiously. She wasn't quite done. The man didn't look scared enough which meant he hadn't learned his lesson yet. Lib's fingers tightened around the assholes collar. The Tri-horn was milking  _everything_  out of this chance to vent. It was a long time in coming for Skulley J. Liberty and she would not let it pass her by.  _Hell to the freaking no!_ She was also entirely unaware of the crowd her venting had gathered. So far gone was she in her heated 'scolding'.

Lips curling over her teeth, another onslaught of anger and stress hitting her, Lib ground out, "Do you  _get_ what I am saying, pile of human scum?  _No?_ Well, maybe, I should _shout it louder!_ Apparently, you have shit for brains so I'll say this in simple terms; you're an empty-headed  _tree-fucking_ , _bastardized_ son of a _slime_  toting  _Blob fish!_ I feel  _sorry_ for your parents, they have an ugly son with absolutely  _no sense!_ Who runs over little girls! Now get the _hell_ out of my sight! No, get the hell off this island  _ **you maggot infested piece of half-digested excrement!**_ "

Lib could not keep the satisfied tilt to her lips hidden, brown-teal eyes glinting smugly, as she watched the man scramble away from her. It felt very, very good to see the piece of rude filth tripping over himself to get away from her faster. Oh, how she loved to play - prank - the humans who were in the wrong place at the right time. Bad for them, of course, but it always brightened up  _her_  day. Lib chortled evilly, eyes squinting to see the man staggering down the street. A curious sniff a moment later told the Tri-horn that the sorry excuse of a being had wet himself.

_Ha! Serves the bastard right!_

Feeling very enthused at the moment Liberty turned toward the scent of her companions _–_

And met the stares of all those watching the spectacle.

Lib froze. Her mind froze. Hell, even her heart stopped when she came face to face with nearly the entire street of people.  _This_ … _this is not good, not good at all! Too many people! Look away little humans, look away!_ thought Liberty with a mental groan. She was supposed to be lying low. Screaming at a man -  _stupid, lickspittle mudlark! -_ was not lying low!

She grimaced.

Felt the sudden wave of approaching danger. She needed to move…

… _Instinct_ …

It was blaring.

_DANGER, DANGER, DANGER!_

Lib glanced at Maiyuu, regret and something else swimming in her gaze.

Then she bolted.

She could already smell the scent of marines on the wind.

It would only jeopardize Maiyuu and Unbachi if she stayed.

If the marines caught them with her…

Liberty's grimace deepened.

Her one regret was not having said a proper goodbye.

… _She had to move_ …

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Skulley J. Liberty did not often enjoy the pursuits of her best friend.

One such pursuit being running; she  _detested_  it,  _hated_  it, but she couldn't survive without it. In the life of a Gifted running was essential, especially if you were being chased.

Like right now for instance.

Lib dodged around the shopping crowd cursing wildly, not daring to plow through the sea of bodies. If she risked going through she might get caught up in their pace and slowed down. Speed was necessary to keep ahead of her pursuers. She was approaching a fork in the road, one seemingly going down hill while the other was a bit of an incline.

She chose the incline, taking the meandering path straight up as fast as she could. The ground rose sharply and the gradation served to strengthen the aching in her legs and rob her of breath far faster than normal.  _Damn the soreness of Hibernation!_ Even though her body was healed from its wounds received in the clearing Hibernation always put a strain on the body afterwards. A strain that was being quite _loud_ right now. If her body had a voice it'd be screaming  _fuck you!_

Gasping heavily, Lib spotted an alleyway coming up on her left and threw herself into it, hoping to lose the marines by hiding just out of sight, though not in the shadows as there were none. Normally her cloak was perfect for hiding, even if her short teal hair stood out among the people around her. From her hiding spot she peeked into the street, and watched for marines.  _Stupid marines, stupid world government, stupid snitch!_

If only her hood hadn't fallen when she'd started running. But the cloak she'd borrowed from Maiyuu wasn't her own and it wasn't specifically made for a Gifted like her usual one was. Hence, it falling and her cover being blown. For once in her life Lib cursed her hair. And it wasn't even the color, millions of people had teal hair, but they didn't have glowing teal hair.

Liberty peeked out again. The marines were three buildings down from her, seemingly unsure about where she'd gone. Lib sighed in relief…until one of the street vendors approached the men, and suddenly pointed to her hiding spot.  _Shit, fuck, fire!_ She bolted out of the alley and ran down the street. Lib was of the mind that she had the advantage; the marines were burdened with carrying their guns, swords, and ammo, they'd have to tire sooner or later. Plus, she barely carried anything besides her pouch of poison supply.

"Halt, Wyvern Sister!" the marines -  _annoying assholes! -_ shouted.

The people down this street were fewer, thankfully. It was easier to run past humans than weave and push through them. Didn't have to use any elbows or teeth. Liberty spotted another small side street where the road branched off into three like a spider web. She turned right and kept running, the street she picked was going slightly downhill, and she thanked gravity for helping her along. The only downfall: it was thick with people and she was forced to dodge and weave around them as she ran.

"Shit, shit, shitty, shit, shit!" she cursed as she sprinted.  _This day cannot get any worse!_

"You're under arrest, Wyvern Sister!" The marines shouted.

Lib flipped them the bird from over her shoulder and kept running. They weren't gaining on her but they weren't slowing down either. She didn't know how long her body, her  _legs_ , could keep up the pace. Another small side street came up on her right, she whirled on her toes, and gunned down it, nearly losing her footing during the turn. A brick wall wasn't very soft to careen into.

"Stop!" the marines hollered again.

" _Go fuck a tree!_ " she snarled in response. In one last-ditch effort she threw her legs into another sprint.  _Thank the Spirits for adrenaline!_

And was abruptly ripped sideways.

Her vision swam with white pixels at the unexpected movement.

The white exploded into black when her back slammed into a wall. She could not stop the gasp of pain upon impact. It  _hurt!_ Her back was the most sensitive right now because of its recovery.  _What happened?_ thought Lib woozily. Confusion was too kind a word for what she felt right now. Her brain was full of stuffing, her thoughts all scattered and disorderly,  _hell_ even her instincts were caught off guard.

"Have a nice stroll,  _dragon?_ "

Everything ground to a halt.  _Everything_. Life, time, her heart, her blood - well, that froze - and her faculties too. She knew that voice. By God did she know that voice. She'd been desperately shoving it out of her brain since her awakening. Lib swallowed, choked, and gasped; two different kinds of fear pulsing through her blood.

Brown-teal eyes stared and widened when they registered the pale pectorals right in front of her. That's when her brain noticed the tight uncomfortable grip around her left bicep. Slowly, tortuously, Liberty raised her gaze. Pectorals, collarbone, throat, chin, nose… _Oh Spirits, oh Spirits, oh Spirits!_

And met two seething red eyes.

Lib screamed.

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She hurled herself to the side, screaming for all she was worth. Instincts finally kicking into gear she feinted to the left, dodging the grasping hand going for her arm, and made to bolt past him. Kid wasn't having any of it. A swift pivot, a snapping hand, and then he was pulling her back. With a surprised cry, he threw her up against the wall, stunning her slightly, and caged her between his frame and the wall with his arms on either side of her head.

Her head whipped up, eyes wide with fear and shock; her whole body stiffened as she tried to press herself into the wall behind her. She was going to  _die!_ Oh Spirits, she had to escape!

Kid read her intentions easily and growled, "Bitch, you're not going  _anywhere._ " He leaned down, sneering lips by her ear and hissed, "I still have to  _repay_  you for that little stunt you pulled back in the clearing."

Liberty's eyes widened, it didn't take much to remember what she'd done. For the goggles still sat snugly on his forehead, and she swore privately that they laughed maniacally at her. She would've glared at them had they not been attached to a very pissed off Supernova.  _Oh no!_

Sheer terror gripping her mind, making her desperate, Lib scrambled sideways. She didn't feel her head bang into the gold bracelets around his left wrist but she definitely felt the sudden tug on her bra.

… _Wh-what?_

She looked down, and yelped out in shock at the sight of Kid's fingers wrapped around the front of her shirt. He tugged again, jostling her chest, and chuckled. The sound sent an immediate shiver up her spine. It was malicious and conniving.

He gave a sharp tug, pulling her away from the wall. She had no choice; there was no way she could slip past him, not when he had a hold of her bra. Her freaking  _bra!_ If she struggled too much he was liable to rip it off. That realization sent an uncomfortably _familiar_ feeling sizzling down her spine. It had her shifting uneasily.

Kid gave another tug, dark lips smirking, confident. He knew he was in control and he reveled in it. The terror, the uncertainty of his intentions, the wide-eyed confusion, all of it sustained him like the bloodiest of battles. Like the first time he'd been enraptured by those inhuman eyes. Slit like a lizards, glowing like the moon, and alien to all. He couldn't get enough of them.

He tugged her closer and growled, "Look at me!"

He wanted to stare into those eyes again. Lib flinched at the rough voice above her and reluctantly met his gaze. His piercing, hellfire gaze. It took every drop of her willpower just to keep her eyes locked with his.  _But it wasn't enough._  Whimpering quietly the Tri-horn looked away. She couldn't handle it when his eyes brought that… that  _heat_  to her belly. It was weird, scary, and made her feel too hot to be normal. She felt like she had a fever and it was caused by  _him!_

She didn't want to look at Kid, didn't want to feel what he was most likely doing to her. Liberty flinched again when his other hand, the one in the sleeve of his furry coat, grabbed her jaw and yanked her head up.

The fear pulsed, became sharp in her veins; it helped to fuel her actions. Jerking her head against the cruel grip on her face Liberty tried backing away from the captain. The tightening around her chest was a loud reminder that she was trapped like a rat.

"No, let go!"

Her fervent demand was met with her back slamming against the wall. She cried out as concrete scraped through her new clothes. The pain bursting in her back had her groaning. A moment later a very hard body pressed up against her successfully immobilizing any escape attempts. She was completely overwhelmed by this hulk of a man, and it frazzled her, shocked her at the feel of him. Kid was all hard angles and muscle. There was no fat, no weakness in his body, only terrible power.

It terrified her, the loss of control over her body. She shifted again, but it only made that clenching flipping sensation worse. The heat of it pooled at the base of her spine and coiled in her loins creating a deliciously—  _no, frightening! Not delicious!_

Liberty's rational side screamed and railed against such unfamiliar intrusion. She had to stop  _it_ , she had to  _stop_  him!

She gasped, the haze of memory blinding her with a sense of déjà vu, when she felt Kid brush against her ear.  _Oh Spirits no!_

It was a Godsend when he only spoke against it. "Bitch! Did you just give  _me_ an  _order?_  No one orders me around, bitch,  _no one!_ I am the fucking  _captain_  here which means, " Kid fisted a hand in short teal hair and pulled down, ignoring the yelp of pain, " _you_ , bitch, listen to  _my_  orders! Got that!"

No response.

Red eyes grew impatient, lips pulled in a snarl; Kid wanted a damn reply. Pale fingers tightened around the Gifted's hair. Kid growled into her ear, "I said  _got that!_ "

He nearly, very nearly lost his temper when no reply met his ears. The Supernova from South Blue did not take kindly to defiance. And Liberty's continued rebellion would cost her.

An idea suddenly formed in his head and promptly replaced his hot temper with smug anticipation. It showed on his features yet Lib was too busy squinting at the sky due to the pressure on her hair.

Kid's lips curled into a sinister Glasgow grin that split his face. This was going to be fun. He was all too aware of her attraction to him; it was something she seemed totally unaware of. The signs were all there, blatant and obvious. Her lack of knowledge gave him the perfect window for his plan. Kid's smirk widened if possible, became heat and dominance and sex. Not only would he get to teach her a lesson on discipline but he would get to  _educate_  her on a more… _pleasurable_  subject.

Abruptly, Kid released Liberty's hair and her head fell against his chest at the unexpected freedom.

Her relief was short-lived, dying quick and painful, when Kid bent down slightly, hooked both his hands around her thighs and hoisted her up against him. The sharp gasp that puffed over his skin had blood falling south for Kid. His  _predicament_ was stoked higher at finally feeling what had been plastered to his back in front of the auction house. She was nicely toned all over and so very, very soft.

Kid wasn't worried about her escaping, he had her well and truly pinned. She was going nowhere.

Liberty was beside herself with emotion. She wasn't just feeling one, no, she was feeling a million different things right now. Panic, fear, anxiety, embarrassment, mortification, anger, and  _sensation_. She was overtaken with sensation and all she could do was tremble helplessly against such unfamiliar territory. Her body was hot, too hot, and she-  _it_  craved for something. Something that scared her so bad she felt like sobbing if not for her pride stopping the outburst.

Whatever Kid was doing was  _wrong_  and  _unfair!_

Conflict waged war with the unnamed feeling; it danced and tightened within her navel. She could not fight it. Some small traitorous part of her brain enjoyed the warm pool of euphoria in her gut. While the other parts clustered together and struggled to shove down the coiling amassing in her lower regions. This defense was shot down when Kid pulled her thighs, hence her legs around him.

The clenching in her belly grew taut and panic seized Liberty upon feeling…

The Tri-horn's mind crashed and burned at the sudden explosion of  _liquid fire_  searing through her veins. All from the contact of their bodies. Their hips to be precise. Her body trembled more when said contact intensified and Lib moaned softly.

The sound was a rude awakening for the Gifted. That and Kid's voice cut through the fog of arousal that she was unknowingly caught up in.

Kid's smirk was still present when he saw the half-lidded gaze of Skulley J. Liberty. He got her and she didn't even know it. Dark triumph filled him at her dazed features. Her guard was down. Evidence of this being the moan he'd felt against his chest, its breathy quality boiling his blood. He found it to be a very sexy sound. A very sexy sound that was making him harder than a rock.

And she knew it too, since he was pressing it against her. He wanted her to feel what she was doing to him.

Cruel smirking lips brushed against the sensitive shell of Lib's ear and whispered sinfully, " _This_ is the right side, dragon." The Supernova punctuated this statement with a roll of his hips. But the haze hovering over Liberty was slowly starting to thin, shock replacing it. Shock and another steadily growing emotion. Of course, his move still ripped a moan out of her which she just  _barely_ managed to choke off.

He was… _rubbing_  against her!  _Oh. My. Fucking. Spirits  
_

And it wasn't his hand this time! It was…was his…his…

Liberty blushed, a new red covering her already crimson face. It had been that color for a while. God, she couldn't even say it! Lib wanted to go die under a tree, hide under a rock at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, anything! She wanted to be away from this man and his addictive heat. For that was the root of Liberty's fear; her want, it was deeply buried. A want that wasn't even conscious. It was a want borne from the deep recesses of her psyche. Therefore, it was not something she was truly understanding of, thus her fear.

Lib jolted against Kid, hands coming up to _do something_. Push, pull, grab, she didn't know. She was so very confused with the situation. Kid was making it worse by pressing himself against her. And so intimately too!

And what was worse were her legs. The heat of his palms lay heavy on the outside of her thighs. So snugly wrapped around his waist, with hardly any space between them, she was completely flush with him from chest to thigh. She could feel him through the material of her pants, feel him through her shirt. It was a hair-raising contact, along with him…pressing into her.

His hips snapped forward again, Lib gasping at the feel of his…hardness. This was so wrong. But it felt so—

**_NO!_ **

She could not surrender to the heat. She had to- Lib gasped when Kid abruptly bit her earlobe for the second time. It sent her stomach flipping, the heat coiling tighter. She moaned. He blew hot air over the bite and husked, "Now where were we, bitch? I remember, you were going to apologize to your captain for giving him orders, weren't you?"

Liberty's heart was palpitating so fast it felt like an endless drum in her chest. She could even hear it roaring in her ears. Too bad it didn't block out the  _devils_  voice. It was with a curl of resentment and fear that Lib took in his words.

_I am not yours, damn it! You're not my captain!_

Oh, how she wanted to spit those words into his face. The only thing stopping her was the constricting ball of fear and the savage glint lurking behind two hellish red eyes. Eustass "Captain" Kid was a dangerous man. A brutal, unforgiving man, and right now it would be foolish to cross him.

If Lib wasn't so enveloped by arousal she probably would've taken the foolish route. No one ever said Skulley J. Liberty couldn't be foolish once in a blue moon. She liked to call it being daring.

Large, calloused hands pulled her legs tighter around him and Kid did something that threw Lib for a loop. He ground his erection into her pelvis; it garnered an instant reaction. Lib cried out, bodily control running rampant, her back aching with the unexpected burst of pleasure streaking through her bloodstream. His voice rumbled in his chest before she heard it and that too sent another thrill through her.

"Say it, bitch, say 'I'm sorry, captain.'"

The grinding continued. Lib didn't know whether to call it torture or pleasure. Surely this was torture.  _S-stop! Stop! Stop it!_

"Stop it!" Spirits, she didn't recognize her voice! It was too low, too husky to be hers. Lib studiously ignored the moan that had slipped out with the two words. Kid wasn't pleased. This was supposed to be where the bitch said the words "I'm sorry, captain" and not "Stop it."

Kid's jaw clenched angrily and he pressed her harder against the wall. Teeth gnashing, Kid snarled, "Say it, dragon!"

Something deep, deep down inside of Liberty rebelled at hearing the demand. It hissed fervently, bristling in rage. She stayed defiantly silent which pushed Kid further. Said Supernova's eyes narrowed, the bloody crimson dark with temper. He  _would_  have her submission.

One hand released a captive leg and rose to grip the back of the _bitches_ head. If she wouldn't say it on her own than he'd just have to force it out of her. He met the dazed but impudent gaze of his dragon and smirked provocatively.

Then he kissed her, and it was overpowering and sudden. Dragons, Gifted, didn't kiss. It was a human act. Something that even their ancestors had forgotten. Liberty squealed into Kid's mouth, thrown for a second loop. Though, this gave the Supernova amble opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips which brought on a whole other level of shock to Liberty's system.

A large, warm hand cupped her face, forcing her head to the side for a better angle. Kid plundered her mouth like the pirate he was, exploring every surface, every nook and cranny available. Lib was unused to the act of kissing, the meeting of lips, the tangling of tongues, it was all very alien to her. She didn't know how to react to it. But this didn't stop Kid. He continued to taste her avidly; she was warm with a tangy flavor that wasn't spicy or sweet. Two flavors he despised so he was delighted when she was neither. He drank from her slowly, memorizing her taste, her mouth, drawing out the kiss far longer than normal.

He nibbled her bottom lip, biting it hard enough to bleed, and suckled on it devotedly. Lib whimpered at the pain, whimpered at the intimate intrusion. She was growing faint from lack of air but he still continued to kiss her. Panic and distress seared through her brain along… with pleasure?

Her blood tasted metallic. Kid smirked against her lips, running his tongue against hers slowly teaching her how to play. Nevermind that her hands were beating at his chest. He was pushing the kiss to its limit and she could do nothing but take it. Kid's hand forced her head back further so he had more room to roam. And roam he did, pushing his tongue further into her mouth, uncaring of the fact that she protested. She tasted far better than he'd expected and he wanted more.

Liberty's vision was going black, slowly, painstakingly. If this was a kiss than Lib was certain humans were  _insane._  While it felt good, okay it felt amazing, it was zapping her oxygen like fish in a barrel. She needed air!

Kid knew the perfect moment to release his defiant crew member and that was right before she passed out. With a  _pop_  he pulled back from her lips, amusement bright in satisfied red eyes as he surveyed his work. Seeing his mark upon her lit his masculine pride up like nothing else could. He relished in her bruised and bloody lips, her wide eyes, and most of all her labored breath.

She stared at him with frozen brown-teal eyes, completely speechless. Well, the speechless part probably was because she was gasping for air. But Kid liked to think he'd shocked the bitch speechless. Yet, his work was only half done. He still needed to hear her say  _the words._

Locking her gaze with his Kid glared and said, voice rumbling, "Will you say it now, dragon? I can do it again, _longer_." The threat had Lib shuddering, stinging lips trembling at the mere thought of going through  _a kiss_ again. Or more like going through _his kiss_ again. It was too much and far too intimate. Liberty didn't know whether to spit in disgust or moan in pleasure. Still panting the Tri-horn opened her mouth but no words came out.

Honestly, what could she say? She  _wasn't_  his underling, and she never would be. Who wanted to be under a violent, evil man like Eustass Kid? Not her. The thought of actually apologizing rankled like no tomorrow. It had that deep inner well of instinct stirring, growling, hissing in discontent.

"…No." It was a feather-light whisper. Kid's expression darkened and he growled, "No, what!?"

"No, I-I…I'm…, " The beginnings of a smirk stole over Kid's face. She was saying it, "I'm…sor—"

_DON'T YOU DARE!_

Lib's eyes went impossibly wide. What was that, what was this sudden feeling? It was intense. The words that weren't really words but more of an instinctual impulse roared through her mind. It stopped her flat. Something was bubbling up from the recesses of her subconscious, something unrecognizable yet familiar nonetheless. It gradually spread outward, thick and cloying, and silently snarled at the dangerous male she was wrapped around. The power of it swallowed her fear, her sense of helplessness; there was nothing it couldn't take on.

It was an instinct Liberty realized fleetingly. She'd awoken an instinct and it disliked, even hated Eustass "Captain" Kid.

"Don't make me wait, bitch!" The voice of said captain seared into her ears, and it would've frightened her, but she felt nothing only a sense of primal malignance. What she did feel was that instinct shift, taking over her mentality with a hiss. It clawed at her insides and roared its fury. It would submit to no male! Especially not to a _human_.

Slit eyes narrowing, growing dark, Lib raised her head and glared, lips pulled over her teeth in a hateful snarl of contempt. Her voice came out guttural and vicious, nothing like its normal pitch. The dominance instinct had awoken and it was in control.

"You're the only bitch here, human!" Liberty's next move was barely visible it was so fast. Dragon speed was not to be underestimated, though Kid wasn't a Supernova for nothing. A fact that probably saved his life.

If he hadn't seen the glint of the needle it most likely would've hit its mark: his heart, but it hit just below his collarbone. A snarl ripped from his lips when his entire right torso became numb.  _What the fuck!_

But Lib wasn't done, she wouldn't stop until she was free and safe. Using the wall her back was pinned to she shoved Kid away with inhuman strength, snarling back at him when he didn't move far. But it was enough to snap her legs from out of his grip. She followed her release by dropping to the ground and kicking out with a leg to block the downward swing of Kid's dagger. She caught it with the heel of her boot and flung it at the west wall of the alleyway.

Once she got both feet planted on the ground she bolted for the main street, ignoring the enraged curse from the lax human behind her. He deserved it!  _Ha, asshole!_

She was gone before Kid lost complete control over his body.


	8. Arousal? What!!

_"Run desire run, sexual being,_

_run him like a blade. To and_

_through the heart. Temporarily_

_pacify this hungering. Constantly_

_consuming. One motive. Bridle_

_all this indiscretion."_

**The Hollow by A Perfect Circle**

Libraries were everything.

Authentic pools of knowledge, power, and wisdom. Lore without prejudice, descriptions and facts for every known speculation. Within the endless dance of words, the world of ideas is paramount, guided only by the mind caprices with its innumerable questions. Mighty lords and grand masters long past, the celestial bodies and their eternal existence rest in faded pages with ruthless resolution. The information of all held in suspended animation, words bound between hide and paper.

Surprisingly, the Library resembled home to Jillian. The familiar ambience of it stirred nostalgia and longing in her breast. The notion carved a reminiscing path, a permanent reminder of the purpose of her existence before an overwhelming and still undiscovered future. Breathing paradox and mystery, it was the place for perfect darkness and perfect solitude. A perfect place to feel  _everything._

A slight, barely perceivable sound emanated from the motionless figure of Sonneillon B. Jillian. Her wary gaze didn't show any sign of conscious acknowledgement to the massive chamber, but her watchful expression and posture radiated an archaic aura that harmonized with the black tranquility that surrounded the Sabaody Archipelago Central Library.

It truly was a vast place. Seemingly ancient with its red wood walls and old scents. The staircase she stood on spiraled down to dozens of looming bookcases that were lined up in long, unending rows. Having sharper than normal eyes Jillian could clearly see the few wanderers carrying lanterns and candles which created circles of orange light in the surrounding dark. Some of the beams of light were balanced on narrow platforms that ran along the uppermost shelves, while others wheeled themselves on railed ladders, pulling out a tome here or there for investigation.

The human patrons were spread out over the maze-like room, some so far away that Jillian wondered at the actual size of the library. The air smelt of worn leather, rotten wood, oil, and dust.

_Urgh, dust._

Sometimes it just didn't pay to have a sensitive nose. Especially, when that sensitive nose was encompassed by the damn stuff.  _Stupid humans! Is Shakky the only human who knows the value of dusting!?_

Jillian was irritated, sore, and very, very alert.

Her senses were strained outward, constantly vigilant, waiting for enemies, watching for  _him_. She'd made a mistake last night and the price was still reeling through her mind, her  _body_ , leaving a trail of fire and discord. It left her with an imbalance that tore at her control and ate at her composure. Left her with visions and thoughts and  _heat_  that seared her brain and pooled in her belly. However, that wasn't what irked her; it was the reason she was here that caused her such irritation. A reason involving the unruly state of her body and its wild reactions and the question of _what_. That her own flesh and blood would insult her so was simply unheard of among the Gifted. There was nothing like this among the Gifted, at least, as far as she was concerned.

Which brought her to the conclusion that Trafalgar Law had done something to her. A malicious attack of some sort that she'd missed while reviewing her memories. Just the thought of her mistake had Jillian's lips curling at the edges, eyes brightening with primal hatred.  _Uncouth bastard!_

Oh, Jillian was aware of what had transpired inside her in that little room above The Rusty Boot. The Gifted as hatchlings were educated on the many instincts slumbering inside of them, waiting for the right moment to awaken. Each instinct had its own function, its own purpose in a dragons survival and life. Some instincts were never awakened, while others awoke on a dime.

It was just her luck that Trafalgar Law had triggered the Dominance Instinct. An instinct that had a pale dusting of pink dotting Jillian's cheeks, both from keen embarrassment and angry confusion. For Trafalgar Law was a human and she a dragon. Surely it was  _impossible_ for a human to trigger a  _bloody mating instinct!_ It…it was just wrong to even think about!

Jillian sneered in disgust, slit eyes narrowed and filled with tumultuous emotion. She wouldn't waste her time thinking over things that didn't matter. What she needed to do was find what she'd come here to find. Knowledge.

Knowledge to explain and hopefully shed some light on her situation.

Sniffing delicately so as not to stir up any dust Jillian peered into the darkness of the library with glowing eyes. If anyone had been able to see her from under her cloak they would've seen two teal pinpoints of light. But no one looked and no one bothered to notice the shadowy figure slither down the stairs and into a hallway.

In the bowels of the library time itself gave the illusion of immobility. It bled into the background for Sonneillon B. Jillian; a factor that held no real weight anyway. Time to a dragon was not a worrisome cause for they lived for centuries upon centuries. Death was something they were taught to never fear; the Void would bequeath unto those, who were worthy of joining its ranks, everlasting peace in the afterlife. If a Gifted lived a good life and was good to others they would enter the Void, which humans called heaven.

If the blood of innocents blackened the hands of a Gifted, if they held transgressions upon their head, they would fall to the pit of Verdaron. Hell to a dragon. It was a place filled with the ash of the wicked. A place known for its painful dues, agonizing retribution, and eternal damnation. There was no repentance in the world of the Gifted. None. If the soul of a Gifted fell to Verdaron they would suffer for their actions without pause; they did not deserve repentance.

Jillian snorted at her train of thought. How utterly appropriate of her to think such things. Standing silently in the middle of a bookcase, tome in hand, Jillian dared to look down, dared to stare at her hands.

Red. Her hands _dripped_ with it. A curse, the marking of the damned, it was. Like a brand it stained her palms, her fingers, her claws; the blood was a reminder. For it was not the blood of countless marines, evil doers, and scum that stained her hands.

… _The blood of innocents_ …

She would fall.

…

Jillian tried her best to swallow around the lump in her throat. Her face, shadowed and blissfully hidden, fractured and broke. The façade, the mask she wore around everyone, lowered, slipped, and left her true visage behind. Yet, only the surrounding dark was witness to this show of vulnerability and  _sheer emotion_.

Within the darkness of the library Jillian allowed herself to feel, allowed herself to  _grieve_. Though, there were no tears, or uncontrollable sobbing; even as exposed as she was some walls would always remain.

It had been over three hundred years since she'd dropped her mask. Three hundred years since she'd been alone long enough to; Liberty was her constant companion, and they needed each other in ways no one could ever understand. Not that Jillian would ever allow anyone to understand. That would involve them getting close.

An action that brought a disdainful snarl to Jillian's face. Besides Liberty and a few others she accepted, trusted, no one. They weren't worthy, they weren't  _safe._ And the safety of those she did find worthy of her friendship was both a burden and an oath upon her shoulders. It was the bane of her conscience, the terror in the nightmares, and the reason for her eventual demise.

There was nothing she wouldn't sacrifice for her home, her people, her friends.

They were all that mattered.

A shadow flitted over her face, slit eyes clouding over with—

The sound of approaching footsteps slew the silence and her security like butter. There was something, a small part of Jillian, that cried out at the loss of emotional freedom but it was soon swallowed by the returning walls of impenetrable stoicism.

From beneath her hood Jillian watched the light of a lantern illuminate the row she was in. The person who held the contraption was short and old; not a threat, but still someone to be wary of. The circle of orange came no closer to her than twenty feet and Jillian was glad for it. She'd rather not be seen by anyone.

When the stranger turned toward a shelf Jillian took the chance to slip away with her cargo. With her cloak hiding the sudden life and death of light the Gifted partially transformed, her arms becoming wings, and flew up and over several bookcases.

She was a flying shadow among the darkness.

Feeling the air, stale as it was, against her face calmed the well of anxiety that had gripped her when she'd heard the stranger. That split second of uncertainty, of not knowing who was there, had shaken her terribly. There she was with her façade down, vulnerable, for the first time in centuries and someone had encroached on that tentative unveiling.

Someone who could've been Trafalgar Law.

 _Or someone worse_ …

Frowning darkly Jillian scolded herself for the thinking such a thought.  _Stupid mistake! Stupid! Grr!_  She seemed to be making them a lot lately, especially when it involved a certain Supernova. Giving herself a strong mental headshake Jillian descended to her 'base of operations.'

Or in other words, the top of a bookcase.

Sonneillon B. Jillian was never one to stay on the ground, it just wasn't in her  _nature_. High places were her haven. Landing silently Jillian brought her tail around and released the heavy tome it carried in its coils. She caught it aptly in one hand, and opting to stay as she was did not banish her draconic limbs. It was just too comfortable, too natural for her, anyway.

And no one would see her unless they were on an opposite bookcase. She snorted disdainfully.  _As if a human would take time out of their little lives to climb a bookcase. Yeah right._

Folding herself neatly on her knees Jillian used her three clawed digits to open the giant book. Because it wasn't the first tome she'd opened in her search she was ready when the cloud of cloying dust puffed out into her face. Jillian did not want to waste half an hour snorting dust from her nostrils twice. It was annoying and painful.

Closing her eyes and pressing her nose into the folds of her wing Jillian counted to ten before looking back at the tome. The first page said  _Human: A Study of Reactions_.

Ignoring the five other books spread out around her Jillian flipped to the chapter titles. Frowning, eyes narrowed critically, the Hellfire perused the unfamiliar terms. Jillian wasn't keeping track of the time but she knew hours had gone by in her search for why her body was  _rioting_. So far she'd found nothing that clicked with her situation.

It was getting frustrating. But the search was keeping her up and away from her dreams. Sleep was not an option until she found Liberty. If she closed her eyes again without the Tri-horn beside her the skeletons in her closet would tumble out, shrieking and chanting words she didn't want to hear. And since her other option, drowning herself in drink, had been cruelly ripped away and replaced with more _problems_ , well, Jillian was finding her situation less than heavenly.

Blue-teal eyes glared at the page, incomprehension and impatience looming thick on her brow. Hopefully this book would have more pertinent information on her  _problem_. If not then she would just go find another one.  _Lucky number six_ , Jillian sneered mentally.

The list of words on the page meant nothing to her.  _Nothing._ She knew none of them as they all dealt with human biology.  _Boring!_

The dragon body was so much more complex and interesting; compared to her physiology the human body was pale and simple.  _Weak._

Jillian stared down at the list again and decided to pick the one that roused her interest.

**Chapter 1: Human Genetics.** _Hn, again boring._

**Chapter 2: The Importance of Evolution.** _Tch, she'd seen them evolve, why the hell would she want to read about it._

**Chapter 3: Systems of the Body.** _What does that even **mean?**_

**Chapter 4: Human Anatomy.** _I just wasted three seconds reading that!_

**Chapter 5: The Miracle of Reproduction.** _Only the good ones came from good breeding._

**Chapter 6: The Cerebrum.** _I don't want to know what that is!_

**Chapter 7: The Whole Picture.** _I don't want the whole Spirits-damned picture! I want to know what the hell is happening to me, damn it!_  A hiss whistled around her fangs before slipping past her lips; it was the sound of displeasure.  _Acute_  displeasure.

Frustration sitting tight and dense in her belly Jillian just picked one and flipped to the page.

_Chapter 5: The Miracle of Reproduction._

Jillian read the title with a furrowed brow but continued to read. It was _moderately_ interesting.

… _The female body_ … _the male body_ … _sexual characteristics_ … _conception_ … _pregnancy_ …

The Gifted felt the dull throb of curiosity tremble through her senses at those five terms.

Sonneillon B. Jillian, like her best friend was an avid reader, thus her complete lack of attention on anything but what she was reading. It was a comforting hobby, something to lose herself in; such a pastime was precious to her.

She'd just finished scarring herself while reading  _The Male Body_ when something in the section of  _Sexual Characteristics_ caught her eye. She immediately focused on it.

_Arousal is a physiological and psychological state of being awake or reactive to stimuli. A number of physiological responses occur in the body and mind as preparation for sex and continue during it. Mental stimuli and physical stimuli such as touch, and the internal fluctuation of hormones, can influence sexual arousal._

_Depending on the situation, a person can be sexually aroused by a variety of factors, both physical and mental. A person may be sexually aroused by another person or by particular aspects of that person, or by a particular thought of that person._

Jillian felt a wave of frozen shock wash over her. It was a slow, steady realization, one met with denial after denial. But the way her body was responding to the words was too evident, too incriminating to ignore. She continued to read in mounting horror.

_A person can normally control how they will respond to arousal. They will normally know what things or situations are potentially stimulating, and may at their leisure decide to either create or avoid these situations. Similarly, a person's sexual partner will normally also know his or her partner's erotic stimuli and turn-ons. Some people feel embarrassed by sexual arousal and some are sexually inhibited. A person can take an active part in a sexual activity without sexual arousal._

_These situations are considered normal, but depend on the maturity, age, culture, and other factors influencing the person. Given sufficient stimulation, sexual arousal in humans will typically end in an orgasm. Sexual arousal causes various physical responses; sexual arousal for a man is usually indicated by the swelling and erection of the phallus. In a woman, sexual arousal leads to increased blood flow to the clitoris and vulva, as well as the seeping of moisture through the vaginal walls which serves as lubrication._

_Other known indications involve heightened respiration, bodily flush, dilated pupils, sweating, and restlessness. All actions are general for sexual arousal in the normal circumstance..._

There were no words in Jillian's vocabulary to describe the upheaval. A mixture of hysteria, fear, disgust, and fury seared through her veins and flipped the acid in her stomach. She was so caught off guard by what she'd read that her mask had fallen; her true expression bleeding into her features like oil on water. Pale skin, gaping jaw, widened eyes, and raised eyebrows were present on her countenance and it only worsened.

Once the initial surprise fell away real recognition sank in, painstakingly, with heaps of disbelief. Denial was close on its heels, as well as its counterpart fury. Jillian's mind had a meltdown; all the information from the book had snowballed into something so foreign, so  _alien_  that it had knocked out her senses. Her orderly mind with its neat analytical skills and cunning edge had revolted, buckling under the pressure of realization.

The realization that she'd been…aroused by-…Spirits she couldn't even  _think_  it! Jillian shook her head violently. How could she even feel _that_ towards _him?_  It didn't make sense! It was impossible, absurd, inconceivable, preposterous, unreasonable, impractical, inexcusable, unacceptable, and…and… _unachievable!_

It was all of those words and  _more!_  The Hellfire wyvern recoiled from the book, eyes still wide, face still pale; she wanted  _nothing to do with it._  She missed her scrolls!  _They_  didn't lie! Surely this human literature was full of deception!

_No, that wouldn't work! Shakky told me about this place and she doesn't lie! So then why would she send me to a place of lies if she doesn't lie! Arrgh!, damn it! Damn the book! DAMN LAW!_

_I_ … _I w-wouldn't feel_ _that! Verdaron_ _no! Never!_

Jillian shuddered, her wings twitching erratically. The book was wrong, she couldn't be sexually aroused by-… _Damn it!_

Her fence of denial was strong but it could not defeat the cold, hard evidence of memory. And memory was _ruthless_ in its quest of reminders.

_("…Fine, fine, you persistent lizard he was hot! Okay, I admit it! I like his hat, I like his eyes, I even like his weird ass pants!" growled Jillian in a rush of air._

_"And?"_

_"What the hell do you want me to say!"_

_"And!"_

_"Arrgh! Get off my back! I'm not saying it!"_

_"AND!"_

_"FINE! I like his body, Goddamn it! You happy now!")_

Oh Spirits! Oh _fucking_ Spirits! She was not-…She couldn't be  _attracted_  to that bastard!

But she was.

And it was slowly, steadily sinking in.

Her mistake the other night aided memory in reminding her of her _responses._ Of course, if she'd been human Jillian could've blamed the whole thing on the basis that she'd been drunk out of her mind. Dragons, however, had a very fast metabolism  _and_  the ability to recount all the events while under the influence. She wasn't lucky enough to forget like a normal human being.

Jillian was finding this skill to be a curse and not a blessing.

She couldn't blame it on _anything_. All she could do was admit it to herself.

…A notion that she struggled with viciously.

_I do NOT like Trafalgar fucking Law! No_ _fucking_ _way!_

Unbidden, an angry snarl ripped from her lips and echoed around the massive room. The sound went unchecked by the Gifted who was too busy wrestling with the cataclysm that was her jumbled mind.

Scattered words - both the books and hers - thundered through her thoughts, visions flashed across her mind's eye, images had her mentally reeling in confused horror, and then _his_ voice cut through…

_("When I have you back on my ship…you'll become_ _very_ _familiar with my touch…_ _here_ _.")_

Groaning at the voice Jillian dug her palms into the sockets of her eyes and sat there silently. She either didn't care or wasn't aware that her wings and tail had regressed back into human limbs. Probably a bit of both.

 _Okay, calm down! This isn't the end of the world! You're not dead yet so calm the fuck down! Think clearly_ … _I need to think this through so it can't be used against me._

Jillian lowered her hands and placed them on her knees; to calm down she took slow deep breaths till her brain settled. Meditation was her saving grace, a rock of stability in the raging river of her subconscious. After the storm of panic dispersed Jillian opened her eyes and moved back over to the book. This time there was no fearful shying at its content, only a repulsed scowl. She'd read the damn thing over and over if she had to, one way or another she'd find something that would help her build her defenses.

Because there was no way she was leaving the library without a defense. Next time Law met her she'd be ready for him.

So with a methodical sweep of the -  _disturbing!_  - passage Jillian picked out all the sentences that needed analyzing.

… _by particular aspects of that person_ …

… _A person can normally control how they will respond to arousal_ …

… _sexual partner will normally also know his or her partner's erotic stimuli and turn-ons_ …

Out of five paragraphs only three sentences caught her eye. Huffing, Jillian stared at the first one, eyes narrowed critically. It was talking about aspects…What were the aspects of a person? The Hellfire tilted her head in contemplation. Well, she knew it meant a particular feature of something or someone. Aspect, in her mind, dealt with appearance and scent and body language. Could it be that?

A furrow of tension deepened Jillian's brow.

If the book was saying an aspect of a person could be…arousing then did that mean she found something aesthetically pleasing about Trafalgar? He was hot, yes, but nothing she hadn't seen before. She'd seen better men over the centuries.

…Or not.

_Oh shut up!_

Now the question: what was the attractive aspect? His face? His height? His voice? His scent? His eyes? His…body? Or was it all of them together? Jillian shook her head, no, there was something she wasn't getting. Something she should be focusing on.  _Damn it! What is it!_

Like the slow ebb and flow of a stream a memory, unbidden, came to the forefront of her mind.

_(It wasn't Lib, she was certain of that. Her nose never lied; her best friend didn't smell like…warm spice and…electricity?_

_Huh?_

_Jillian grew confused because she didn't know anyone who smelled so…so_ _intoxicating_ _. She didn't care to wake up, her body felt like crap, but she'd face anything if only to smell more of this scent. It was both soothing and sharp in its fragrance. The way it coalesced in her nostrils like storm clouds before permeating her mind nearly had her feeling drunk.)_

Warm spice and electricity.

His scent.

Jillian swallowed at the memory, blue-teal eyes shuttering. She'd smelled him in that clearing for the first time and it had nearly shot her nostrils to the Void. It was just  _that_ good, it was just that  _dangerous._ A scent that intoxicating meant trouble for her, especially with Law after her.  _Annoying bastard!_  So if his scent aroused her or, at least, helped to contribute to her state of arousal then she had to  _not_  scent him. If his scent wasn't in her system, wasn't clogging up her mind, it would be all the better for her in the long run.

She wouldn't have to smell him, therefore the scent wouldn't hamper her bodily sanity as it were.  _Ha, got one down, asshole! Your scent won't catch me off guard again!_

The second sentence was easier to decode because it was somewhat connected to the first. With the absence of his damnable addictive scent a confrontation would not involve her losing her head when she needed it most. There would be _no_ distraction concerning scent. But that wasn't all of it. Humans didn't have strong senses and that included their sense of smell; the second sentence couldn't be only talking about controlling scent.

In reading something so utterly foreign and new Jillian was now  _aware_  of her own lack of knowledge in the field of  _intimacy_. Which meant she was at a disadvantage no matter what she did. It was simple common sense that told Jillian that Law knew way more about this subject than she did, he was human after all.

_Fuck!_

She'd have to be wary of that knowledge now. Extremely wary. She'd already had a taste of his superior skill and she  _did not_ want another spoonful. Jillian sneered at no one in particular.  _See if I ever get drunk near humans again!_ She wouldn't give him ground to control  _anything!_

The third sentence was the most disturbing to Jillian. Why? Because it added more weight to the fact that Law held a certain power over her. The mistake at the bar only proved that he was more than capable of acting on his prior knowledge  _ruthlessly_. And now the arrogant son of a bitch knew her…erotic stimuli…and turn-ons.

Spirits, that sounded  _so_  wrong!

Jillian could not stem the feelings of disgust at the two alien terms. They were completely loathsome in Jillian's mind. Hell, the  _man_  was completely loathsome! Growing flustered Jillian snapped the book shut and pushed it away. She'd had enough of revolting facts and ideas for one night…or was it day?

The Hellfire sighed tiredly, eyes going half-mast. It wouldn't take much…just to…close them…

_WAKE UP!_

Blue-teal eyes slammed opened at the mental shout and stayed open. She  _could not_ fall asleep. Not unless she wanted another-  _Stop, right there! No more thinking!_

To shake any sleepiness away Jillian jumped to her feet and ignoring the pile of books summoned her wings and flew away.

She'd go search for Liberty; the Tri-horn was probably somewhere in the trees.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Grey eyes opened slowly, the tinge of sleep in them disappearing within an instant. They slanted to the side and stared; dark anticipation smoldered in the depths of Trafalgar Law's eyes.

The Vivre card.

It sat so innocently on his bedside table, a perfect square of paper, moving…

It was moving…erratically.

Law watched it closely, his gaze swimming with unreadable emotion.  _What was Miss Jillian doing so late at night?_

Right...up...down...left...down...up...up...

Interesting. Could it be that Miss Jillian had been visited by another nightmare?

Grey eyes narrowed at the thought. His wyvern seemed to have quite the irregular sleep schedule. Something he would remedy when she became a permanent member; he wouldn't allow any form of self-harm to befall his crew, and that included blotched slumber. If Jillian was avoiding sleep then he would just have to give her something else to dream about.

A slow smile curved Law's lips.

Privately, the Surgeon of Death wondered what she had thought during those first moments of wakefulness. Did she remember anything at all? It was a question that ate at his thoughts since leaving her at The Rusty Boot. Twice he had stopped, twice he had opened himself up to doubts and that mental whisper of  _take her, take her, take her._

But he had persevered through the onslaught, had walked back to his sub without halting a third time. He'd allow nothing to interfere with his game. And what a game it was. Grey eyes darkened with black ardor. He'd win too. This game Jillian participated in, though she remained unaware of it. He'd win and after…

 _No,_  Law thought calmly.  _Now was not the time to visualize the result._

This was an opponent worthy of his attention, he would not insult her by underestimating her intelligence. Hence, the  _game_ ; the idea had formed within the chaos of Grove 12, the Pacifista battle. That confrontation had taught him many things about Sonneillon B. Jillian. The meeting at the bar, Law smirked at the memory, had only compounded his growing analysis of her character.

A character that had  _ensnared_  him; she possessed an enigmatic air about her, a shroud of unfathomable mystery that drew his intellectual mind like bees to honey. How could anyone, pirate or not, be blind enough to  _not_ pursue such a valuable creäture. They were all fools, and Law would claim the prize before any of them came to their senses.

What a day that would be when they came to realize their lost opportunity. Oh the  _satisfaction_  he would feel at seeing the dismay on their faces, the utter desolation at seeing his new acquisition.  _His._

And she would be his; bent or broken, it was her choice whether he used force or not. Though, her defeat was inevitable, it would be amusing to see her struggle. Then he could use  _other_  means of subjugation. Grey eyes gleamed with something dark and twisted, a glimpse of _why_ he was called the Dark Doctor. Law held many desires: conquest, supremacy, power, _knowledge_ …

Sonneillon B. Jillian would contribute to that knowledge. The game that had struck him like an epiphany during the Pacifista fight was simple; some called it reconnaissance, others exploration, or even _fishing_. He planned to do all three with a side of amusement, of course. Which explained his actions the other night…

It was just a sense, a mere flicker of conjecture, that somehow Jillian was conscious of his words.  _Come morning, Miss Jillian, I will_ _find_ _you._ This theory solidified when he'd returned the next morning to find the room conspicuously empty. His mind had latched on to the fact that any _normal_ person would still be in bed stricken with a severe case of hangover. Ruminating over the discovery had brought about an unexpected find.

If Miss Jillian was gone, therefore not suffering the ill-effects of alcohol, then could it be possible that she was aware of his challenge. The speculation on the matter had deepened Law's boundless wellspring of curiosity; the need for more knowledge. Because knowledge was power and Law searched for it just as he searched for One Piece.

To say Law  _wasn't_ eager to test his theory on whether Jillian remembered or not was a fools statement. Once that piece of paper stopped moving the game would be on and with the ball in Jillian's court the next moves were sure to open new doors and mysteries for Law to unveil. Sonneillon B. Jillian was a creäture of secrets, of hidden facets, and facades.

He would rip them all away, slowly, carefully, till he knew  _everything_.

With that thought Law closed his eyes and returned to sleep that smile of silk and shadow looming on his face.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Skulley J. Liberty sat or rather  _slouched_  over the bar top in Shakky's Rip Off bar. Eyes glazed over with the buzz of rare Pinot Noir wine. While she didn't hit the hard liquor like Jillian did certain situations called for the occasional indulgence.

_Aka certain assholes!_

The restless shifting of instinct cleaved through the vapid backdrop of her hazed mind. Even six glasses of wine wasn't enough to drown out  _the incident_. Hopefully, the seventh or eighth would do the trick. Lib groaned miserably. The world sucked. _The world can go fuck a tree!_

No, that wasn't right…

While the world did suck she wasn't really angry with it now; it was  _Kid_  who could go fuck a tree! Wait, no…the tree would surely be traumatized if that…that  _asshat_ came near it.  _That poor victimized tree! Oh damn! Damn, shit, fuck, fire! No! Argh!_

The Tri-horn stared, conflicted and distraught, into her wine glass; it had gone so well too! She'd been forgetting the situation and now…  _It's a bust, ugh! Why her,_  why _him? I mean, yeah, he's hot and he's got abs to die for but_ _really!_ _Does he have to freaking pin me and- and_ … _do all that human stuff!?_

A grimace stole over Lib's face at her thoughts. Human stuff, indeed. Unbidden, the memory of the evening resurfaced from where she'd drowned it under a wine induced haze. Wine could only hold off memory for so long, after all. It was with a distressed cry that a deluge of images collapsed upon her mind; Liberty had been so set on forgetting the incident that she'd failed to anticipate one little flaw.

Her attention span.

The brain within her skull was fickle with its defenses, therefore it was only a matter of time before  _certain subjects_ escaped their mental cages. Which Lib was totally unprepared for. And like the normal spaztastic Skulley J. Liberty she  _freaked out_.

If the Tri-horn had possessed even one-tenth of her composure she would've been utterly thankful that no one (Shakky had been absent when she'd barged in) was around to see her breakdown.

In the heart of said breakdown…

Fear.

_Fear. Fear. Fearfearfearfearfear._

Sitting there, heavily buzzed, and limp with confusion and terror, Lib felt the firestorm that raged inside her. Fear against instinct. Instinct against fear. Her emotional being was unbalanced, thrown by the actions of a mere  _human._ Actions she didn't understand, actions that scared her to the point of  _drinking_  herself into a daze.

Liberty didn't drink, didn't _like_ to drink. Yet, here she was happily gulping down glasses to drown out-

_Fear._

It was like a tightly wound coil beneath her skin, every muscle and contour of her body, tense with the Godforsaken emotion. But she couldn't help it. She didn't have the control Jillian had, nor half as much  _want_  to possess such a skill. It came with such a steep, terrible price.

So she sat, drank, and hoped to the Spirits that forgetfulness was within her power.

It wasn't.

"Why won't you leave me alone, you fucking bastard," Lib's voice croaked out hoarsely. The empty room gave no reply to her despaired groan.

The play of devilish scenes continued across her mind's eye.

**Crack!**

Liberty pried her eyes off the rough wood of the bar to look at her wine glass. Or what was _left_ of it anyway. Pieces, it was in pieces. Sharp shards of glass clung to her hand along with leftover wine. It was quite the mess; Lib couldn't foster enough gumption to care. Shakky wouldn't miss one stupid wine glass. It was ironic though, the sight of the broken glass resembled her lack of stability.

She wasn't whole like the glass should be, like  _she_ should be. With this fear running wild inside of her there would be no solace, no calm. And. She. Could.  _Not_. Stand. It. Something, maybe her new-found instinct, urged her to be angry at her reaction. Angry at  _him_. The urge was there, yes, and yet she shied away from it. It was wholly irrational, this sense of trepidation towards her own instincts. Towards  _herself_.

Though, it was all too appropriate for the situation. If only Lib knew that.

Skulley J. Liberty _was_ angry. Oh was she angry; fury  _swamped_  her even now. But it was funneled by frustration and confusion so acute it was devastating. Why? Because the two emotions created _fear_ ; a fear that had Lib's heart jerking, lungs gasping, and mind splintering at the thought of Eustass "Captain" Kid.

It wasn't just him, though.

_Actions._

_(Lib's mind crashed and burned at the sudden explosion of heat searing through her body. All from the contact of their bodies. Their hips to be precise. Her body trembled more when said contact intensified and Lib let out a moan._

_His hips snapped forward again, Lib gasping at the feel of his…hardness. This was so wrong. But it felt so—)_

And  _her_  reactions.

If Liberty could cringe any more she would have.  _Shut up brain! Shut up! ARGH!_ In an effort to quell her stubborn train of thought Lib smacked her forehead against the bar. Repeatedly.

The images, the fear, all of it refused to fade. It continued to sear and burn her insides, her sanity.  _Damn you, Kid! Damn you to_ ** _Verdaron!_**

Brown-teal eyes suddenly went half-lidded; she was overcome by an unexpected bout of exhaustion. The force of it broadsided her emotions, draining them till they were weak and muted. Gradually, the stress, the anxiety, the confusion, and mostly the fear bowed to the sudden drop in adrenaline. A major energy drop as Jillian would call it. Now if only she could find a nice bed of gold to sleep on; her life would be complete with a bed of warm gold. Spirits, she wanted her lair!

And  _her_  pile of precious metals. Human beds could never hope to compare! Not to mention her tunnels! Spirits, she missed those too! The warmth that was always present because of the volcanic fumes and heat, oh, it was to  _die_  for! Liberty sighed tiredly at the thought; the sound was tinged with longing.

And her dog. She missed her dog most of all, well, besides her best friend. Honey was her name and she was the sweetest thing on four legs. It brought a sense of sadness to the Tri-horn at the thought of not having her cuddle-buddy. Jillian wasn't known for her touchy feely personality. She'd be sleeping alone for the first time in centuries. Lib knew it was dangerous to sleep alone but, at least, she didn't have Jillian's problem. Though, that just made her feel anxious.

Jillian absolutely could not sleep alone.  _Okay, I need to sleep! Sleep, sleep, sleep!_

She couldn't worry for Jillian right now. Her best friend was strong, maybe not as strong as she used to be, but she would avoid sleep somehow. And hopefully, when  _she_  woke up all the chaos in her  _ridiculous_  mind would be gone like a Grand line storm. With that thought Liberty stumbled off the high chair (nearly falling on her face several times) and up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

While the wine sucked at drowning out thoughts of Kid it worked wonders on drowning her consciousness. Liberty was asleep before her head hit the mattress.

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_Something deep inside of me knew I was dreaming. This wasn't the real world; there were too many…humans around._

_How I've ended up in this dimly lit lounge with a horde of humans is anyone's guess, but I'm here. Sadly, Jillian is absent which heightens my discomfort. I don't like parties, not really, not unless I'm with my friends._

_The strangers are dressed in rich finery and yet they don't seem to notice that I'm in my borrowed clothes and cloak. Maybe they don't care? Though, when I pass a group of young people, the men all stare at me in awe while the women sneer jealously. Huh?_

_Why are they all staring at me!_ _I'm_ _not all fancy!_

_Confused and just a tad bit irked, I glance down to find that I'm no longer in my jeans, shirt, and cloak. What the hell? I'm wearing a long, maroon dress. Holy porcupine balls! It's_ _gorgeous_ _and one of my favorite colors to boot. I look awesome! Not only that but its one of those dresses that float above of the floor; a dress fit for a ball. Puffy, off the shoulder, corset, and with little flower embellishments on the front._

_Oh blech!_

_No wonder they were all staring. My hair wasn't covered by the cloak anymore and, well, the dress_ …

_Why am I dreaming this? The question echoes around the room but only I seem to be able to hear it. The chinking of glasses, light gossip, and lofty pissing contests continue uninterrupted. Stupid rich flunkies! Why don't you go put your money on something worth while for a change! Gah!_

_Rolling my eyes at the scene I intend to walk myself straight out of this waste of a dream. Couldn't I dream of something a little more exciting? Like oceans, beaches, and skippers! Oooh and secretary birds! That would be an awesome dream to hav_ —

_"Liberty." I freeze. My eyes take in everything in the room, people, attire, exits, decorations, lighting, but I'm not seeing any of it, because that voice is too familiar, too dangerous, too attractive! It belongs to_ _him._ _I can't help but swallow my tongue; he said my name! Oh God! Oh Spirits! Oh whatever! Just shit, fuck, fire! He never says,_ _has_ _never said, my name!_

_And what's worse_ … _I can feel my cheeks flush. Damn blushing! Damn it to Verdaron!_

 _My heart is seriously bruising my ribcage when I decide to (reluctantly) turn around. It's not safe giving_ _anyone_ _your back. Ever swallowed your tongue before? No? Probably because you haven't seen something shocking enough. Or hot enough_ …

 _Yeah, Kid_ … _looks devastatingly good in a tux. Oh my God! I can't_ _not_ _think he is sexy beyond all sense. Holy shit!_

_Holy shit is right. He's staring-_

_At me._

_Spirits just kill me now! I will go willingly!_

_"W-what are you doing here?"_

_There is no reply from the dangerous Supernova. It has my adrenaline spiking, instincts riling at the charged silence. Not even a knife could cut this one. I swallow thickly; it doesn't help. With those penetrating red eyes on me I don't think anything could help me._

_"I'm here, bitch, because you want me here."_

_What?_

_How eloquent Lib! It takes a minute or two to regain some semblance of calm before I can meet those eyes again._

_"Hell no, I don't!" I spit with as much hostility as possible. It's hard when you feel like running and screaming._

_I am going to die! Kid has a horrible temper! Bloodthirsty bastard!_

_There is, surprisingly, no outburst of anger, no explosion of rage from the red-haired pirate captain. He only raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be here, dragon, if you didn't."_

_Dark amusement laces his tone. It fuels the spark of my ire. Even if he did look hot in his suit- No! Don't even think about it! Distract! I need a distraction! Where is Jillian when you need her! Argh!_

_I scoff at his statement a moment later. Really! He's really gonna try to pass that_ _bullshit_ _with me! Ha! Yeah right! Over my dead body! I do my best to glare at him like he's an idiot._

_My voice is lashing and scornful, "As if I'd_ _want_ _to see_ _your_ _ugly backside after what happened!" This sentence opens up the floodgates of frustration and anger and it's not long until I'm ranting at the injustice of it all._

_I am so immersed within my mental dream rant that I fail to notice the predator approaching. The large rough hand that falls on my bare shoulder has me shrieking in fright._

_How the hell did he get so damn close!? Oh damn it all! I suck at scenting!_

_Kid is right in front of me, jacket open at the collar, giving me just a taste of what I know to be underneath. Bad Lib, bad! Look away! If I thought my initial scare was bad enough its nothing compared to when I feel him against my ear_ … _again!_

_Oh Spirits!_

_"You enjoyed it didn't you, bitch." Not a question. The arrogant bastard states it like a fact. Asshole!_

_Hell no!_

_"What do you want, Kid?" I snap, a glimpse of my temper bleeding through. This man! One word: a pain in the ass! Okay, that wasn't one word but whose counting!_

_"You." He says simply; the glint lurking behind dark red eyes is unsettling. How could_ _anyone_ _meet those pools of blood and fire? My gaze stays riveted over his shoulder. Staring at the wall was healthier than staring into Kid's heavy glare._

_"I'm not joining you stupid crew!" Was he deaf! How many times would I have to tell him "No!"_

_The smirk I see in my peripheral is just another blow to my composure. It's something to be seen in nightmares when the mugger finally gets you, or the rapist corners you. I shiver. Not a good visual, Lib!_

_"You know what," Kid says, lips still smirking, "We can stand around and argue about the inevitable or we can get down to the fucking point."_

_Warily, "What_ _is_ _you point, asshat?"_

_I don't get an answer. Not a verbal one, anyway, because apparently show, not tell, is Kid's way of making points. One moment we're standing in the middle of the lounge, me glaring at him, him smirking up a storm with his hand on my shoulder, and the next he's using that hand to pull me in for a, well, a kiss._

_The urgent and forceful and I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off way of kissing. Not like I know that though._

_What I do know is that I should be angry, enraged even. I should be struggling, fighting, and screaming. I'm not. A part of me is wondering where the hell that new instinct is. Where was the surge of animalistic wrath when I needed it! But there is nothing, no stirring of violence or hate or rage. Nothing. Not even panic._

_Nor fear._

… _I was enjoying it._

_What? Oh no! Nonononononono!_

_I have to pull away! Rip his hands off my waist and stab him with a poisoned needle! Gouge his eyes out with a wooden spoon!_ _Anything_ _to get away from his lips, his heat,_ _him!_ _But it feels so good_ …

_The taste of him is beyond words just as the act itself is. Like spice! Hot, heated spice! The kind that has me craving for that slow burn in my mouth that stays for days. It's like a fire has ignited inside of me, destroying any thought of rebellion. The sensation is too addictive for me to ignore. So I don't resist when he pulls me closer, nor do I pull away when his mouth moves from mine so that he can start a trail of kisses and bites from my jaw line down to my throat or when he backs me up against the wall._

_Moans._

_Gyrating movements._

_Gasps._

_The body pressing against me is hard, firm, and masculine. The urge to reach out and touch Kid is overwhelming; I don't fight it. My hands mirror his in their quest of mapping curves and angles. Every touch of rough, heavy hands heightens the fire underneath my skin; the pool of coiled heat in my belly tightens._

_I cry out at the sensation. It is_ … _God, I don't even know what to call it!_

_My mind is a mass of jellied fog, filled with incoherent mumbles of encouragement, and little else. Sense, logic, and instinct have flown out the window against such an intense wildfire. Kid is playing me like a finely tuned harmonica. As long as he doesn't stop I could care less._

_Lips are by my ear and I gasp when those same lips open and taste and lick. Spirits, it feels so good. Then there is a voice, low and_ … _menacing?_

_Caressing hands suddenly become cold and bone-like. Dead._

_"Say it. Say '_ _I'm sorry, captain_ _!'" A hiss._

_I look up because that voice isn't Kid's._

_The flash of purple sends me screaming into black oblivion._

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Shakky sauntered up the massive staircase leading up to her beloved bar with an amiable air. It had been a good day, especially for meeting new pirate crews. The ex-pirate smiled cryptically; she hoped the Strawhats went far. They definitely possessed the determination and resolve for such a challenge. The New World did not suffers fools or weaklings. The Strawhats, thank the Gods, were neither.

 _The hat of Roger rests in good hands,_ Shakky thought sagely.

It had been several hours ago that Rayleigh had unexpectedly barged into her cozy little bar with the notorious Strawhats in tow. Official introductions were given, conversations and explanations among them, along with multiple questions. Many of which involved two MIA dragons; what friends _wouldn't_ be worried when a comrade went missing for over three days? With all that had happened at the auction house it was _no wonder_ hell was raining down on Sabaody Archipelago. An abundance of marine activity all over the island had forced Luffy and his crew into hiding. It was only smart when talk of Warlords and Admirals whispered from all corners of the lawless grove. So the Strawhats laid low and waited, however impatiently for the storm to blow over.

It did…eventually. Shakky smiled at the remembrance; being around that crew when they were holed up had been wrought with lots of saké, pillow fights, and general acts of boredom, cabin fever, and - unsurprisingly - more boredom. But the heat and panic triggered by the chaos of the auction house incident cooled down soon enough and it wasn't long before the rowdy Strawhat crew was biting at the bit of adventure. They were a very loud crew, especially when they wanted something. If Rayleigh hadn't been such an understanding old goat she would've been worried when Luffy all but shoved him out the door. To say Luffy was eager to get his ship coated was a gross (and dangerous) understatement.

Cabin fever had  _not_ been kind to the hyper rookie. Though, one thing was for certain, the Strawhat vessel was definitely a beauty. Shakky had, of course, gone with the crew to their ship; she was curious as talk of the famous Sunny had surfaced in many conversations. And looking upon it for the first time, Shakky had not been disappointed for The Thousand Sunny was a ship worthy of the New World. It would serve them well and keep them safe. The New World was not a kind place.

Now she was returning to her establishment for some rest and refreshments. She also had to restock her fridge.

The sight that met her gaze immediately had her stopping, senses alert and straining. Her front door was ajar and she was positive she'd locked it before leaving. Marines didn't bother to come this far into the lawless grove and her name was known among the regulars who lingered in Sabaody Archipelago. Shakky slowly moved to her door and pushed it open. There was no movement inside. No enemy, no intruder, no one.

Her senses sharpened.

The ex-pirate entered cautiously and glanced around. Everything seemed to be in order. Bottles of grog were still present, furniture whole and untouched, windows unbroken, chairs unmoved and- Wait a minute!  _There._

A cloak lay haphazardly on one of her high chairs. And the wine…

_How had she missed it?_

She walked over to the bottle and noticed the shards of what used to be one of her wine glasses. There was glass everywhere. But who…?

Shakky stared at the bottle intently, something was nagging her. Dark eyes widened a moment later.

The evidence was too incriminating.

_Pinot Noir._

She kept that brand for only one person.

One  _dragon_  she should say.

Shakky relaxed her tense posture; she was glad that such a good day wasn't ruined by nefarious idiots. With the threat of intrusion past the bartender leisurely made her way behind the bar, Liberty was probably on the second floor somewhere. Napping in one of the guest bedrooms probably. The Tri-horn had been delighted at the thought of sleeping in a human bed again when she'd visited earlier.

The ex-pirate wonders—

The piercing cry of terror that cracks across Shakky's hearing is  _deafening._

She is already running before the screaming stops.

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There was another presence…on the second floor.

The feel and sense of it left her bones cold and her mind frigid. Shakky couldn't stop the shudder as waves of malevolence washed over her; it was an evil sick sensation that had nausea swimming through her head. But when she opened the only closed door in the hall it vanished and left nothing but disturbia, silence, and the memory of cold, cold  _evil._ The worry she felt for her non-human friend, so innocent in the ways of being human, weighed heavily on her tense shoulders.

Would she find evidence of an intruder in the room? Such a malicious presence could never belong to a marine or even a pirate. Yet, when Shakky burst into the room and glanced around all she found was a restless Liberty.

A sweaty, grimacing Liberty.

Bad dream.

The scream had been from a bad dream?

The ex-pirate paused before the bed as the pieces in her mind crumbled. She was sure she'd sensed someone here right before she opened the door. But Liberty wasn't awake nor was she screaming at someone because they'd disturbed her sleep. There was no one in the room but her. Confusion fell thick on her mind followed closely with incomprehension. The scream, the unknown presence, the bad dream, all of it boggled her. Shakky had never known Lib to suffer from nightmares. Ever.

She had the feeling that there was a connection between them all. But the  _how_  eluded her understanding and she backed off slowly. Shakky was well-versed in things that held no easy explanation. Though, she was finding this situation testing her composure way more than it should.

Only because the memory of brittle cold left a foreboding tattoo on her mind that she could not shake.

Skulley J. Liberty woke to a warm hand on her forehead. The shock of it left her gasping and mumbling, "Jillian?" Hope rose steadily in her veins; her partner-in-crime was—

"Not quite, Lib." Shakky.

If Liberty had been standing she would've slumped over sideways.  _Damn._  Jillian was still missing. The hope receded quickly with that realization leaving Lib feeling very small and strangely hysterical. The odd swell of emotion bubbled up from deep inside her; an unrelenting gulf filled with bereft sorrow and loneliness. The Tri-horn wyvern shifted uncomfortably at the painful twinging in her chest. It was an all too familiar feeling; she'd felt it for centuries.

Then it stopped. Vanished. And something else, something hot and provocative, took over. Like sunlight on the skin the feeling seemed to sink in through her pores, streaks of heated poison attacking her system sending pangs of rolling, flipping fire through her veins. The intensity of it nearly had Lib gasping but she choked back the sound, choked back the emotion for which she had no name.

What did one call this sensation of heat and fire, this utterly delicious but  _intrusive_  feeling; it was like she was unnerved by her own skin.

Liberty opened her eyes to find Shakky sitting on the edge of her bed. The bartender seemed…tense.  _Why?_  But she knew the answer. It lingered within her subconscious, unwanted and loud, like an ugly scar that refused to fade. She could never hope to ignore such a mark. At least, not when it involved her own body. Then the full recollection of what lurked in her memory sank in. She was still feeling the effects of the dream…

_Oh. My. Fucking. Spirits! Shit, fuck, fire! Shit, fuck, fire! Shit, fuck, fire!_

Shakky could only stare in bewildered silence as something seemed to seize Liberty. She'd never seen the Gifted react this way towards  _anything._

The Tri-horn let out a strangled shriek and would've rolled off the bed had Shakky not been sitting right in her path. Lib released another squall of frustrated shock and clutched at her hair at the  _utter injustice_ of her  _nightmare._ It just wasn't  _fair!_ How could  _she_ …? No! She didn't,  _she didn't_ , it didn't happen, there was  _no_   _way_ , she wouldn't do _that_ , not with him, she wouldn't, she  _wouldn't!_ This- this was insane! By the Four Spirits!

_He was_ _human!_

She could feel a scream of hysteria coalescing in the back of her throat. Too quickly for Shakky to really understand what she was doing Lib rolled over, stuffed her face into the pillow, and muffled the screech of a thousand crazed banshee's. It was a long shout of emotion, mixed and jumbled emotion that stabbed at Liberty's composure because it was emotion that made her  _hot._ Ugly, unfamiliar emotion. Bad, tainted, and evil!

And while Lib absolutely  _loved_ the heat  _this_  type was definitely forbidden. Peccant. Dangerous. Abominable! From the depths of Verdaron.  _All of the above!_ When the muffled screaming died down the toxicologist slumped limply over the bed, vocal cords raw and exhausted. Hell, she was exhausted. Feeling very vulnerable at the moment, Lib whimpered.

It was too much. _He_ was too much!  _Why can't you just leave me alone!_ And after what he pulled too, the bastard! It just made her dream seem all the more blasphemous! Liberty groaned and gibbered miserably. And if that wasn't bad enough she was still feeling _him!_

His touch, his taste, his scent; God his  _taste_ , it was _pure sin_. The taste of him still lingered on her tongue like a whisper of heaven, or hell. And his hands,  _ohh his hands_ were devious weapons against her novice body. She could, with exact detail, remember every plane of skin his fingers and palms had traversed. Every trail of fire he left seared her virginal mentality, and she was loath to even admit that she'd played the part of willing participant.

And she had been willing, not at first, but Kid had soundly ensnared her with his dastardly actions. Why was there no retaliation on her part, no moves of resistance, or even words of spite? What was wrong with her?  _I am completely, utterly, irrevocably stupid!_ But Liberty knew the answer, well, the logical one born from her own perception of the events. Skulley J. Liberty only knew so much about humans, after all.

It was his scent. It had to be! There was no other possible reason for her bout of…crazed insanity. The right scent to a Gifted was like the fabled ambrosia of the Gods, it captured the senses and weaved passion so intense most dragons became drunk off it. Eustass "Captain" Kid, unfortunately, had a very - _no, he doesn't! -_  delicious scent. It was like the potent mix of spices that burnt the tongue and scorched the mouth.  _Oh God! Shut up! Shut up, shut up,_ _shut up!_

The images that suddenly assaulted Lib had her in near convulsions. Denial, shock, fear, and yet more denial followed closely behind the attack and she couldn't help the groan of misery that slipped past her lips.  _Damn dream, damn Kid, damn him and his- his- Gah!_

The sound was completely pathetic. It was a hopeless, helpless, on-the-end-of-my-rope sound that tugged at Shakky's heartstrings. The bartender, feeling concerned, instantly placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. There was no yelp of surprise. No exclamation of shock. No usual reaction. Something had seriously rattled Liberty to the point where her fundamental reactions were being ignored.

The bubbly dragon she'd known for decades was now reduced to a ball of shivering uncertainty. "Lib, what's wrong?"

The voice was soft and coaxing, tinged with a familiarity that was safe in Liberty's overtaxed mind. She used those three words as a focal point for her sanity. It helped as a distraction from the heat, from the memory. From the touch of rough hands, and dark lips.

… _What's wrong_ … _?_

"Me!" Shakky frowned in confusion at the shouted word. What did she mean by 'me'? Was something wrong with her? Did it involve the bad dream? Most likely. "What's wrong with you? Is it because of the dream you had?" murmured Shakky calmly.

Cue more groaning and general 'my-life-sucks-right-now' mumbles.

Liberty rolled over slowly and opened both teal-brown eyes to look at her old friend. Maybe she could help explain what the hell was going on. Maybe…The Gifted let loose a tortured sigh, took a deep breath and muttered, " _Him!_ _He's_  what's wrong with me!  _Argh_ , I can't get him outta my head! I can't get what he did outta my mind! And my body feels all hot and…and my navel…hurts like someone's twisting something in it and it  _won't_  stop! It only worsens every time I see or think about that stupid asshat! He  _did_  something! He…he bewitched me!  _Because of him_ I had that  _stupid dream_  and I, well, I _–_ damn it, he made me enjoy it!"

Shakky blinked.

And blinked.

And blinked some more.

She was…

A hand rose to cover Shakky's mouth but the soft laugh echoed easily.

Liberty had a sexual dream.

The whole thing suddenly seemed funny and completely ironic. Of course, Lib would freak out over something so natural. So normal. But it was interesting; she wondered who'd caught this woman's eye.

"Why are you laughing! This isn't a laughing matter, Shakky! He  _did_  something; I need a cure!" wailed the teal-haired woman loudly. The expression of desperate aggravation coupled with Lib's best puppy dog eyes drew more laughter from the bartender. She couldn't help herself; someone had caught Liberty's eye which meant arousal and daydreaming would come into play. In the four decades or so that she'd known the Wyvern Sisters never had she seen the two caught up in the world of attraction. They'd always been focused on their quest for vengeance.

Wait a minute.

Was Liberty freaking out because she had a sexual dream or because she didn't know what a sexual dream meant? The laughter stopped abruptly. Over the many years Shakky had to deal with several cultural differences about the Wyvern Sisters. Some issues were small and easy to deal with while others were very peculiar and strange to her human sensibilities. Could it be possible that Liberty wasn't aware of her own attraction? Surely the Gifted had their own feminine teachings on sexuality?

Was it possible that Liberty and Jillian had left their home before they could learn such notions? If so, then why?

Questions that Shakky had ignored in respect for the two best friends abruptly made themselves known. She knew for a fact that there was scores more on the past of Skulley J. Liberty and Sonneillon B. Jillian. Both her and Rayleigh only knew what the two dragons were willing to give and in all actuality her knowledge of the Gifted only went as far as factual.

Shakky really knew nothing of their past, not their true past beyond the time when they'd first made themselves known to the world. Did she want to pry? No, as long as she found out why Lib was freaking out and why her past didn't, shouldn't, matter. Shakky always lived in the now and she wouldn't quit over a passing curiosity of Liberty's life. Right then, Shakky needed to clarify what had Lib so distraught; she wouldn't worry about past events that weren't her business in the first place.

All mirth left the bartenders face, a rather serious expression taking its place. She smiled calmly and felt warmth in her chest when the Tri-horn seemed to quiet. Brown-teal eyes became less wild and fearful as they watched her, waiting for her to speak.

And speak she did, "I'm sorry for laughing, though I was not laughing at you, but more so on the situation as a whole," Lib huffed cantankerously at the explanation but remained silent, "Have you ever heard of a sexual dream?" The wide-eyed shock Shakky saw in Liberty's expression was more answer than a verbal one could ever give. The ex-pirate found it highly comical.

When the dragon was not forthcoming with a response Shakky continued, "A sexual dream happens when attraction awakens, it is usually triggered by someone we find arousing or in other words handsome. Sexual dreams can also be brought on by the recollection of an arousing event in the subconscious mind…"

"Wait, hold on," Liberty interrupted with a squawk, "you keep saying arousing and I don't  _know_  what that means! A  _sexual_  dream! Hell no! I…I didn't have one of…those. And I am not attracted to that bastard!"

The sheer amount of denial and gnashed out hate didn't faze Shakky, though she was surprised that Liberty, for being as old as she was, lacked so much knowledge concerning the workings of sexuality. Had no one taught her about arousal and sex; it would seem so. The poor woman didn't even know what she was feeling, or even going through.

Shakky sighed quietly, thinking of how to word arousal to her friend, "Arousal, Lib, is when the body feels desire and want toward someone. Say for instance a woman sees a man she finds to be handsome, the woman may become aroused by his looks, voice, or body." The bartender halted her explanation upon seeing the look of pure horror taking over Liberty's face. Her features were lacking in color as well.

"…So…I am… _possibly_  a-aroused by Ki-… someone that I find…attractive?" Lib's voice was so wrought with disbelief and abhorrence that all Shakky could do was stare. She also did not fail to catch the slip up in the middle of her confession. Nor did the name elude her sharp mind either.

Kid. Eustass "Captain" Kid.

Liberty found the top Supernova attractive, and apparently enough to the point of triggering a sexual dream about him. The bartender wondered if the captain knew, or if they'd had a confrontation that had started it all. One thing was for certain, whatever she had said had definitely shed some light for Lib if her words and expression was anything to go by.

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Skulley J. Liberty wanted to die.

Crawl under a rock. Be stoned to death. Get hit by a comet.  _Anything!_ But no, the words whirling around in her head wouldn't shut up, words given to her by the ever wise, and ever cool Shakky. Her old friend had been kind enough to explain what was happening to her. Though, she almost wished she hadn't. Sometimes ignorance _was_ bliss and Lib regretted not keeping it.

Damn her Sweetling (1) curiosity! Damn it! Couldn't her genes be anything but the dragon known for its curious nature.  _Argh!_ Curiosity definitely killed _this_ cat! Err, dragon. Liberty rolled over on the bed and groaned. This wasn't fair! She couldn't be…aroused by that brute of a man. That violent monster! There just was no way!

The dream was too much evidence, too obvious in its meaning. Shakky's explanation had finally given words to describe the heat pooling in her gut; it was arousal. She was attracted by Kid!

It sounded  _so_  wrong. So wrong in fact that Lib couldn't really believe it. Denial still bared its fangs in the wake of fact. And like the runner Lib was she grabbed on to that denial and held tight. She  _was_   _not_  attracted, couldn't _possibly_ be attracted, to that beast! Yeah, his body was hot but Lib had found other humans…attractive before. He wasn't the only one!

_Nope, no he isn't!_

Feeling suddenly safe in knowing her body hadn't turned traitor, as well as safe in the knowledge of her denial, Liberty calmed and settled back on the bed with a small smile of content.

She  _wasn't_  attracted to Kid. God, she loved saying it. Repeating it made her believe it even more.

She wasn't attracted to Kid.

She wasn't attracted to Kid.

She wasn't attracted to Kid.

_Hell yeah! I'm not attracted to that bastard! Whoop, whoop!_

While Jillian's face-it-head-on approach forced her into a hyper-irritated mindset, Lib had the more pound-it-into-the-ground-with-denial sort of approach that was perfect for her lack of want to deal with anything too disturbing. But it did have one little flaw; never did an obstacle involve fighting her own body.

A sudden delicate clearing of a throat brought Liberty out of her 'victory thinking' and into the present. She focused her attention on a strangely serious Shakky.

"There is one more thing I need to tell you…"

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Frustration, agitation, and confusion whirled around Sonneillon B. Jillian's mind. The three confounding emotions had merged together to create one big ball of peeved incomprehension that sat like tar in her belly. The tension that exuded from the Hellfire would've disturbed the common people had they been present. But as it was Jillian was far above them at the moment, narrowed eyes seething with suppressed turmoil, and lips curled in a nasty snarl. The Gifted wasn't amused at all.

After her disturbing trip to the Central Library Jillian had focused her attention on reuniting with Liberty. Upon exiting the old building she'd turned her trusty nose to the wind to start her search. At the time Jillian had been rather confident about finding her best friend before dusk. The Hellfire prided herself in possessing a keen sense of smell, however, the search slowly turned into a wild goose chase that (surprisingly) tested the long rope of Jillian's patience.

Of course, the reason for her  _im_ patience could very well be placed with her  _male problem._ Though, she would never admit it verbally or even mentally to herself. It was something she'd rather put out of her mind for the time being and distract herself with the chase. And it was a chase, indeed. By mid-afternoon Jillian had traveled through five groves which had given her nose nothing but an obscure whiff of her best friend. It was almost like the scent was ghostly, one minute it was there and then it was gone, it was frustrating to lose a trail so many times over. At least, for Jillian; in having such a refined nose losing a trail was nigh impossible for a Gifted. Not even a dog had a keener nose. Which gave Jillian amble reason to be frustrated out of her mind.

Now she sat, weary and uncommonly irked, on the rooftop of a three-story building. It was a nice little niche she'd found while looking for a good perch. The cover the overhanging eave gave threw her form into shadow, so she could rest without someone seeing her. Running around the whole of the Sabaody Archipelago, even for her, was tiring when so many hostiles were after you. Jillian had lost count at forty-five; seriously, couldn't people give her a break and  _not_ throw a fit when they spotted her. Thankfully, a quick jab to the Supraclavicular nerve put an abrupt stop to that possible problem.

Jillian didn't need extra attention from the marines. They were already going to bury six of their men by the end of the day because they'd pushed her a little too far with their ignorant  _boosting_. She'd felt no remorse in slamming a knuckle into their GV 16 nerve, it was a fun point to press anyway. Watching them convulse due to the pressure of the hit was just a bonus. Jillian was only _slightly_ sadistic.

Cue mental smirk.

Jillian reached up to adjust her hood for better view of the street below, it was positively  _crawling_  with humans. She'd been crouching in her niche for nearly ten minutes, nose working feverishly, but still no familiar scent. This marketplace was the last trail and it was already growing cold. Jillian frowned darkly, a spurt of irritation forming in her gut. A cold trail meant she would have to get closer, closer as in  _ground_  level.  _Yeah for me. I get to go down with all the noise and_ … _Ugh!_

Before her mind could supply an excuse Jillian looked to see if the coast was clear, when it was she rose from her crouch and stalked stealthily over the side of the building. Using the many natural shadows thrown by ledges and eaves it was easy for Jillian to navigate herself down into a side alley off the main street she'd been watching. Having a cloak to conceal her  _coloring_  only helped matters more. A Gifted in the presence of humans couldn't really blend in; at least, not her, not anymore.

For the marines now knew what she looked like as a human. A furrow of contemplation creased Jillian's brow at that thought.  _Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to fly recklessly into Sabaody Archipelago_ … _No, that's not right. It is a good thing, just one that came a little too fast. After all, I must have a way to kill hi_ —

Jillian was snatched from her line of thought by a rough jostling. Head snapping up, lips about to release a snarl of warning, Jillian choked at the sight of blue and white. Marine. Shit.

And that marine was now offering an apology and a hand.  _A bloody hand!_ Double shit! If she gave him her hand to keep up the façade he'd immediately feel her claws. He'd immediately know she wasn't some cloaked lady. Feeling cornered, Jillian's overtaxed mind sputtered at the situation, and promptly shut down. Instinct flew into place, survival already moving her body into action.

Like a viper her hand shot out grabbing the marines wrist in a grip that crushed the radius and ulna together. The instant pain from the grinding bones would've sent the private crying had Jillian not rammed her knuckles into his trachea. Any scream or shout from the marine cut off into wet choking and then silence. Jillian didn't stay for the death, no, she was out of that alley before the enemy took his last breath.

Instinct could move someone quite fast but instinct fueled by surprise and panic? Well, nothing could really beat that. Heart pounding thunderously the Hellfire weaved between the masses of the marketplace so fast that no one could register her presence fast enough. Breathing heavily Jillian ducked into the first alley she saw and very nearly collapsed under all the adrenaline.

What was  _wrong_  with her!? That was another slip up; she couldn't afford to let her guard down, not when she was basically in unknown hostile territory. What the hell had she been thinking! Actually, that was just it, she'd been  _thinking_. And about  _that_  no less.  _Maybe I have a death wish?_

Stupid question. She  _did_ have a death wish. Only it would account for something so much more than killing herself. It would… Jillian shook her head with a growl and smacked it into the wall behind her for good measure. There she went again. God, she really needed to focus.  _Focus_ _, damn it!_

Sighing heavily Jillian was startled to hear her stomach moaning in agony because it'd been empty too long. It  _had_  been a while since she'd last had a meal. Not since The Rusty Boot. But did she want to run the risk of entering another bar? Was she that daring, or was it pure stupidity?

No, she wouldn't go to a bar for food. She'd find some private restaurant that was small and out-of-the-way of the major populous. Hopefully, the workers would hate the marines too, maybe then she could relax some. Not enough to lower her guard but just enough to release some of the tension in her shoulders. It was growing more than slightly uncomfortable.

From under the shadow of Jillian's hood bright blue-teal eyes watched the mouth of the alley for any spectators. Seeing none the Hellfire allowed the wash of warmth, a prelude to her partial change, to overcome her. The transformation of her arms into her wings was both painful and pleasurable, a sensation too deep and intimate for any human to really understand.

 _Thank the Spirits this cloak covers my wings_ , thought Sonneillon B. Jillian silently. It felt good to stretch out her carpus and metacarpus, her wings didn't like being stuffed beneath human skin. Snorting, Jillian extended them as best she could in the cramped alley and pushed off with her feet. A few wing-beats was all it took for Jillian to get some good altitude. And to get out of the weak vision of the humans.

Within the air, held safe on high winds, Jillian allowed herself to calm, to truly calm. If only she knew what alley she'd been in and what had happened there not a day earlier.

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Sonneillon B. Jillian dropped herself into a wrought-iron chair at a cozy, little café in a cluster of shops deep in the lawless groves. The restaurant was a private owned business with two elderly employers; it was the perfect place for her to get a bit to eat, it only served those over forty. And, well, she'd past that age  _way_  before anyone in the diner itself was even born so she was definitely allowed.

But the cloak helped her keep up appearances, no one needed to know just how…young looking she was. They'd probably chase her out with pitchforks and not even the wordage "appearances can be deceiving" would save her. So she kept her hood up, groaned like a hag, and wobbled to a seat at the far back. Thankfully, the day had waned in terms of sunlight and heat, not that it bothered her, but people would start looking at you weird when you didn't fit certain social norms. That included wearing less when it was hot and wearing more when it was cold.

The Gifted, depending on their breed, were impervious to most temperatures. Hot, cold, blistering, it didn't matter. But humans were fragile when it came to the weather and bowed to it  _every_  time. Jillian grew smug at the thought; Law certainly couldn't handle diving into lava or sleeping in a blizzard.  _Ha!_

It was getting close to sunset now as the air was going through its daily change in temperature drop. She could sense the cold that would soon take over when the sun went down, it would be quite breezy during Moon hours. But Jillian wasn't worried about something so  _normal_ , what she wanted was food.

Her stomach tightened at the thought.

Food wasn't the only reason, though. Surrounded by old people playing chess (there was a chess board at every table) and sitting by herself, Jillian could feel eyes on her, watching, appraising, probing. It had her lips curling back over her teeth in a quiet growl of malcontent. Sonneillon B. Jillian did  _not_  like being watched as if she were some  _animal_  in an exhibit. If she caught the bastard who found her so  _interesting_ …

Jillian's clawed hands clenched underneath the cloak. He wouldn't live long that was for sure.  _Especially_  if the bastard was in the category of _hostiles_. Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle at the intensity of the stare had Jillian's stomach flipping uncomfortably. Her instincts didn't like it either; they had been hyper sensitive ever since… _Yeah_ …

Shifting slowly the Hellfire subtly looked around, scanned the crowd. Nothing.  _Grr, where are you hiding!_ Couldn't she get one little break without the threat of attack!? Jillian huffed irritably and slouched in her chair. Yet, it seemed not even her façade of detachment could quell her uneasiness, after all, the last time she'd ignored someone staring at her had ended _badly._ And that was putting it simply.

Jillian hoped whoever was watching her so closely would stay the fuck away from her. She also hoped the culprit wouldn't make a scene if he did approach her. The Hellfire scoffed quietly, life  _loved_  fucking with her, so if there was even the _smallest_ chance of a confrontation than there would be one. Slouching further in her seat Jillian focused on the chess board in front of her; a distraction would be nice right now, if only she had a partner to play with. Where was Rayleigh when you needed him?

A waiter suddenly appeared at her side, wide smile and sparkling eyes, the whole may-I-help-you shebang. Jillian nearly snarled at the man, a streak of hatred spiking though her well of emotions; the mood of the fool reminded her too much of Liberty…and of the fact that she was still missing. Jillian barely kept her tone cordial when she ordered herself a smoothie. The man whose name was apparently Preston Willings took her order like it was some heavenly blessing; disturbing.

 _Why did that conversation involve giving his name? And what type of human names their hatchling Preston!?_ Jillian snorted with a sneer.  _Well, Preston has to be desperate if he's that_ _willing_ _to flirt with a 'old hag.'_

It hadn't been a solid three minutes before the waiter, Preston Willings frolicked, actually _frolicked_ to her table. Jillian couldn't help but stare.  _W-what_ … _the_ _hell!_ Preston smiled widely -  _creepily!_ \- at her while setting her desired order down and then he _didn't leave!_

_What. The. **Hell!**_

Her life, oh how it loved to screw with her, could not have gotten worse.

It got worse. Much worse. The creepy flirt started _talking to her!_ She would've blamed him for the intense probing stare had it stopped as soon as he approached her, but it was still there. Still prickling her skin, still boring into the back of her head. Could she not get a break!? Was the world really that cruel?

 _Yes_ , her mind whispered.

That was when Jillian noticed the poor sap had spoken to her.  _Like I care about your lack of intelligent conversation._

"…waiting for a partner to join you? Maybe I could wait with you until they come?"

 _I would rather skin my hide off with blunt claws than to keep your company!_ Jillian sneered at the man from the shadows of her hood, however, her voice came out brittle and raspy, "No thank you, I am alone and would like to enjoy my solitude, young man."  _So get the fuck away from me before I send a finger into your Kyosen!(2)_

If Jillian didn't have such refined control over her emotions she would've laughed at the pathetic wilting of the waiter. Now all she had to worry about was that sta _–_ Wait it was gone!  _Shit! That's either really bad or really good._

In her case…it was most likely really bad.

But nothing happened in those next few minutes. No ambush from the marines, no pirates, no creepy flirts, nothing, nada. Sitting there sipping her strawberry smoothie Jillian waited, and waited, and waited. Ten minutes flew by quietly, slowly, and ever so slowly Jillian relaxed enough to lean back into her chair.  _Okay, okay, breathe, damn it. Whoever that was is gone now so breathe!_

She wanted another smoothie.

Jillian glared down at her empty glass moodily. Her hidden eyes rose to land on the obnoxious idiot across the patio; the café was an outside eatery, she didn't like being inside, too easy to corner someone. And she would not be  _cornered_ again.  _Hell no!_

Her nose registered the scent of blended strawberries too late.

"Hello, Miss Jillian."

The deep whisper came from behind her, delivered right into her ear. The smooth cool voice echoed in her head and not even sense and instinct could stop the wave of breath-stopping shock that paralyzed her. Jillian should've reacted, should've whipped around with hissing accusations and quick-silver revenge, but she did nothing. All she could really do under such powerful surprise was sit there, frozen, and feel his warm breath ghost down the side of her neck.

Jillian could not stop the involuntary shiver.

She was even more shocked when the scent of blended strawberries materialized over her shoulder. Gripped between long, tan fingers which, of course, were tattooed was a  _smoothie_. The smoothie she had just finished.  _The fuck!?_

Blue-teal eyes watched as the hand placed the smoothie down on the table in front of her and retreated.  _How_ …? How, damn it?  _How_  had Trafalgar _fucking_ Law found her? He couldn't be that good of a hunter? No human was that good at hunting, not anymore! Jillian stared wide-eyed at the smoothie, thoughts, memories, and questions whirling wildly through her mind.

This situation couldn't possibly be happening. It  _couldn't!_

Oh Spirits, but he was  _here_ , she could  _feel_  him, the heat of him, standing behind her seated form. Worse, she could feel that stare, that intense, probing stare which had unnerved her ever since she'd entered the café. Had he been tailing her? Impossible, she'd been using the rooftops.  _Spirits_ , what was going  _on!?_   _No, don't lose your cool! Stay calm, stay guarded, and never show your back!_

That thought seemed to spur her into action. Body stiffening, she turned in her seat, eyes beneath the hood narrowed and glaring. Another thought dawned on her, lighting the fuse to her temper; the bastard had actually managed to  _sneak up on her!_ And with how vigilant she'd been the whole time, it just didn't make sense.

He'd been utterly silent.

However, Jillian's anger was no match for Law's proximity, nor was it ready for him at all. At the sight of the Supernova her infamous temper died a premature death leaving Jillian with nothing but…feminine curiosity? Wary feminine curiosity.

The Hellfire knew the body, she had to for her fighting style. Dim Mak called for an expert in bodily anatomy, pressure points, and synergy control. Yet, she had never really taken the time to study the body for any other reason. But there she was staring, taking Law in. Jillian should've been embarrassed with the situation, disgusted with herself for even _looking_ , and above all else planning an escape. She should've been scared out of her wits and on the defensive.

Apparently, her good sense and wisdom had flown the coop because she  _wasn't_  frightened, not one bit. She was wary, yes, and maybe a little too tense, but she was staring at Trafalgar Law and she wasn't backing down in her perusal of him.

And, by the Spirits of the ocean, was he handsome.

Darkly handsome.

There was just something about the captain that darkened his appeal. Whether it came from his aura which pulsated with barely restrained power, or from his confident manner in all things around him was unknown. Though one thing was for certain, that dangerous quality did not detract from his appeal, no, it  _added to it._

Unruly, coal-black hair hid beneath the white of his hat; from what she remembered it had been soft and thick. Somewhat long but not too much. He had a strong jaw and a neat goatee that brushed his chin with black. Equally neat were the twin sideburns that seemed to fit the arrogant man. For reasons beyond Jillian's understanding his…facial hair painted a very masculine image that had her feeling a wave of steadily growing heat between her legs. His lips were thin but then again who was she to judge whether they were perfect or not. Those same lips were set in a half-smile, half challenge.  _Challenge? For what? Do I even want to know?_

Jillian's eyes rose more and landed on storm clouds; his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Dangerous, dastardly snares they were and they caught her easily. Too easily. Accented by a pair of black brows, those knowing eyes of his watched her watch him. Jillian swallowed. She didn't know what but something flickered in that grey gaze, something beyond his façade of politeness, it unsettled her because she couldn't read him. No, Law wasn't a readable person, not by a long-shot. Jillian envied his aptitude for emotional indifference.

Though she was disturbed by the intent stare focused on her, Jillian couldn't shake the notion that her level of uneasiness was lacking. Maybe, it was. Wouldn't her normal reactions include running and attacking? Wouldn't it involve fear? Because, to be frank, she was scared of Trafalgar Law. Him and his damnable scent and ability in fields she was unfamiliar with. Which just wasn't quite fair in Jillian's mind.

Then again this  _was_ a pirate she was dealing with.

Everything they did was unfair.

Law hadn't moved and (creepily enough) was still watching her like she was the rarest bird in the world, so with a scowl, she continued in her curious - _insane, I am insane!_ \- examination of him. If he wanted to play  _that_ game than she would.  _Jackass!_  Dropping her eyes away from the dangerous planes of his face she took in his stature. The Heart pirate captain was tall, something that had caught her eye when she first saw him. At around 6'3" he towered over her petite 5'3", a fact that he was subtly displaying as he stood behind her. And he was lean, but not too much as to be scrawny. Oh you'd be a fool for thinking that body was anything but strong. For a human, of course.  _Though_ , Jillian thought silently,  _he did manage to hold you in that clearing while you were struggling. That's not weakness._

Jillian would've snorted at the thought had her mind not warned her of using her nose. She had to be careful around this man now. Slipping up and getting his scent in her head would have her right where he probably wanted her; vulnerable and open for attack. Not only would she have to be extremely careful with her senses but with him as well. Because he had experience and she did not, and he knew too much already. Jillian absolutely could not allow him a chance to gain ground.

Thoughts of the dare crept back to haunt her and she fought a cringe. She could not show weakness when the proverbial shark was swimming around, he would smell the blood and move in before she could to swim to safety. She wouldn't leave herself open to his manipulations; there would not be a _repeat_ of The Rusty Boot.

Unbeknownst to Jillian a shiver racked her body as flashes of the incident seared through her mind.

The husky chuckle sent a streak of heat down to her loins and Jillian immediately sought a distraction by swallowing and biting her lip  _hard_.  _Don't let him get you!_ The mental demand ricochet off the walls of her mind. Feeling strangely daring (crazy) Jillian turned back around with a disdainful snort and started sucking on the straw of her new smoothie studiously. She hoped he would take the hint and go away. She was also incredibly tense; Law had shown himself to be fast and agile, a sneak attack would be right up his alley.

Law smiled at the blatant rebuff as he moved to take the seat next to the woman. Jillian tried - Spirits, she _tried_ \- to ignore her awareness of his knee brushing hers, and the tingling it inspired throughout her body.  _Goddamn it! He can't be in control of my bodily responses! Control it,_ ** _control it!_**

"Not going to thank me, Miss Jillian?"

Said Gifted stopped slurping away at the smoothie abruptly. Hidden eyes darkened with temper.

"Why should I? It's not like I asked you to buy me one or did you  _steal_  it?" Jillian bit out waspishly. Irritation didn't even cut it for what she was feeling at the moment. When only silence met her gnashed out reply spite and wariness made her look over at the seat next to her. Instantly she wished she hadn't. That smile, enigmatic and secretive, seemed to taunt her with her own uncertainty and tension. It was even worse when the glint in his eyes twinkled with the wicked knowledge of their late night rendezvous.  _Damn it, he's too close!_

Sighing, "What the hell do you want."

Law raised an eyebrow at her blase exclamation. This was definitely a new facet of her personality. The thought brought on a very intrigued smirk to his face. How interesting it was that he should encounter a surly blunt woman in the place of one hell-bent on escaping him. Just where had the frightened one gone in the span of one day? Speculation filled Law's mind and sharpened his gaze.

Something had definitely changed. He could sense it hovering over the Gifted like a roiling storm. Now  _what_  had changed and what had spurred its creation?

"Everything."

Jillian stared at the smirking jackass and growled lowly at the confidence of the assertion.  _Fuck you!_

Sneering repugnantly, Jillian hissed, "Then what the fuck is stopping you? Huh? You seemed ready to take  _anything_  back at the damn bar!" The sudden swell of fury and humiliation had Jillian throwing off her hood to glare at the insufferable man. God, she  _wanted_  to kill him but her instincts were warning her away from such action. If the patrons of the café were surprised at her appearance Jillian took no note of it. She didn't care to, so intent was she on glaring hate at Trafalgar Law.

Law, however, was delighted and surprised. Surprised because Jillian somehow remembered the events of her drunken stupor and delighted because that knowledge deepened the mystery of her tenfold. It also opened new doors for Law to consider.  _She remembered._  It had been a distant hope that had lingered in his mind; that she would wake up and recall his claim, his words, and his touches. That she would feel  _branded_. Now that he knew for sure that she did, in fact, remember…

The smile that twisted Law's features was sinister and way too satisfied for Jillian. What the hell was he  _smirking_  at? The way he was looking at her made her want to run, and run far. It had her stomach flipping at the intensity of his gaze.  _Stop staring at me like that!_  Did he get off at exploiting her when she was drunk? Was that why he was staring at her so happily! How _dare_ he come in here, sit next to her, and have the _audacity_ to leer at her! Jillian's temper flared white-hot.

"I bet you feel _proud_ taking  _advantage_  of a woman when she's drunk, huh?" snarled the teal-haired dragon menacingly, hands fisted, knuckles white. She would notjust sit there and take his smug complacency.

Law watched the bristling Gifted intently, remembering to pay close attention to where her hands were; they were dangerous weapons. And with how angry she was at the moment Law was under no illusion, she would probably go after him if provoked enough. Yet, seeing those slit eyes come ablaze was worth the risk. He was glad the hood had been removed, it saved him the trouble of forcing it off her head. Though, that would have been just as satisfying.

Lips still curled in a smirk of lazy pleasure, Law murmured, "Why bring it up if you hated it so much?" Sonneillon B. Jillian was a clever woman with a quick and agile mind. Law knew this to be fact and yet she had some gaping blind spots in her thinking,  _particularly_  about herself. It was such gaps he blamed for her lack of knowledge about her own body and its human reactions. She was clearly not of his own species but it was obvious that  _while_ human the Gifted was open to all the ins and outs of humanity. Which Jillian proved to be utterly unprepared for.

She also was wholly unprepared for the intensity of a humans libido and by default sexuality.

Sexuality that Jillian was feverishly running away from. And doing a horrible job at it. She had no idea what she was doing, or even how to handle her own arousal. Law already knew that his looming presence was making her uncomfortable in more ways than one. It was quite entertaining to watch her fidget and squirm, even more so when she was trying to cover it up. But from his standpoint, a  _doctors_  standpoint, she could hide nothing. Slightly elevated breathing, tension in the shoulders, jerky movements, and again with those strangely dilated eyes. A mere slit of black they were. She wasn't hiding anything from him.

Law was not surprised when his bold statement met no biting retort, rather Jillian looked too infuriated to reply all together. The Surgeon of Death liked to watch her seethe when she was angry, it was fascinating to see those eyes narrow and darken, lips pull back over deadly fangs - another trait of inhumanity that deepened his appreciation of her.

He sat, posture relaxed and unthreatening, and waited for her to rein in her temper. When she seemed to finally wrestle the fury sparking in her eyes back to a manageable level, he continued.

"No answer? Now that is interesting. Or is your silence merely a time for producing a lie?"

The fact that she looked stricken by the new question was enough of an answer. So Jillian was conflicted over having enjoyed his actions the other night and admitting it to herself for that matter.  _Quite the puzzle you are_ , Law thought archly. He would enjoy discovering every piece of her. Had she been conflicted like she was now after the dare? Law hoped so.

The bastard was  _incorrigible_ …and unpredictable. Not only was she caught off guard by his words but it was hard to glare when his eyes gleamed with the knowledge of her thoughts and feelings, as if he  _knew_  what was reeling through her mind. The languid arrogance he was displaying was just another thing that made him hard to glare at. It made her want to strangle him and run but she didn't want to make a scene. She was tired from all her searching; another factor that made her wary. Exhaustion was close, a confrontation would be risky in her state. Plus, her synergy was already strained enough as it was. It took a lot out of a dragon to constantly shift between forms.

 _Silence? Lie? Ha, maybe I just don't feel like talking to you asshole!_ Jillian found it way more appetizing to keep her silence on the matter. She didn't want to talk about  _that_  anyway. Jillian promptly turned back to sip at her smoothie.

Law quirked a dark brow at Jillian's tactic; evasion. The Dark Doctor remained undaunted by her disregard. He knew by their earlier interactions that to be able to sit near her freely was something out of the norm, nevertheless, it was a chance he wouldn't risk ruining. So he would take this time to do some subtle digging. Especially now that she was actually sober.

Jillian could feel his gaze on her, it was very, very hard to ignore. Couldn't the lout leave her be? Gritting her teeth the Hellfire sent a vicious glance and  _balked_. He was staring at her  _expectantly_ , somehow managing to look inviting, displeased, and unthreatening all at once. What did he want? An answer?

The Gifted frowned at him and snorted. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to talk to him!

"What are you afraid of?" he asked abruptly. Jillian could only stare, puzzled.  _Afraid of?_ But the heat behind his eyes was answer enough. Suddenly feeling hot and dizzy Jillian looked away from his penetrating stare.

"That's a really broad question, Trafalgar." Jillian grumbled moodily. She'd rather beat around the bush than answer such a question. It was a question veiled in shades, a double meaning. She refused to walk over the mine; this game he was playing was a trap.

"You're deflecting, Miss Jillian," replied the surgeon.

Sonneillon B. Jillian let out a frustrated, choking snarl and rounded on Law with a black serpentine glare. Lips curled angrily, she bit out, "Of course, I'm deflecting! I don't want to talk to you! After the shit you pulled why would I? I don't know what the hell you're up to but leave me out of it! And stop pushing  _it_ , damn it! I am not human like you, so don't touch me! What you pulled the other night, Spirits, don't you have any honor? I don't like you, not even remotely, Trafalgar, so  _stop_  with all the…" Jillian trailed off; she didn't want to admit it, didn't want to say it.

Spirits, she'd never felt so exposed in her life. It was a terrible feeling. Jillian shifted nervously, she was way out of her element and it was starting to grate on her nerves. Her horribly shot nerves.

Law listened to Jillian's furious rant; while all the orders rankled he did not follow through with the urge to punish her. His abnormal show of restraint did serve a purpose; the rant was quite  _enlightening_. The Surgeon of Death let loose a chuckle and spoke lowly, richly, "In the few minutes I've been sitting here, your skin has flushed, the heartbeat pulsing at your neck has accelerated, and you've adopted a strange breathing pattern. I know the scent of arousal, Miss Jillian. I can smell yours. Now I'm going to ask you again: what are you afraid of?"

Shock punched her with an icy fist.  _Oh Spirits_ … He was dangerous, so very dangerous! He'd swiped the rug of stability right from under her feet. Left her grasping at straws. Jillian closed her eyes, helpless against the panic that was beginning to seep through, and drew in a shaky breath. Then another.

Her mind raced. Instinct screamed and railed.

He knew. Law knew. Of course, he did! She was literally a novice trying to resist the skilled hand of a grand master. Reading a few books gave her an inkling of the iceberg that was arousal. But no field experience. Experience that Law was very apt at using. Did she expect him not to use it against her?  _Yes._ No, because he was _ruthless_. He was—

"Don't think too hard, Miss Jillian," Law cautioned softly, dark eyes gleaming eerily. "Lying to ones captain invokes punishment."

His voice, the low sultry tone of it had Jillian's stomach burning with liquid heat and scandalized fury. The emotion of her response had Jillian's own voice kicking up a notch in octave, "P-punishment! You have no fucking right! You're not my  _captain!_ "

Law locked eyes with the incensed dragon and smiled slowly, provocatively. He shifted in his seat, brushing his knee against hers again, and leaned forward into her space. The Dark Doctor was gratified that she let him and proud that she didn't back down. That subtle defiance made him want to hold on to her all the tighter.

"The day is coming, Miss Jillian. But I didn't come here to fight." And Law meant it. He'd followed Jillian to this remote diner not to capture her, but to converse, get her comfortable with speaking with him, maybe answer a few questions that lingered on his mind. That had been his hope when he'd watched her enter; the impression he expected was not what he was given much to his surprise. Instead of flying fists, cornered growls, and hostility he was met with stony silence, cutting replies, and scorn. When he expected her to run at the sight of him she did a one-eighty and stayed.

Jillian was unpredictable. She was fascinating.

 _What the hell does he mean,_ _not fight?_ _He's hunting me! And the day is coming? What the hell does_ ** _that_** _mean?_ So many questions and no answers. Jillian despised the fact that she felt interested in what he meant, she  _knew_  it was bait, meant to stir up her curiosity, prick her interest; did his manipulations ever end! But she wouldn't say a thing, she wouldn't fall into his trap, not this time! If she did she'd be eating her own-… _damn it!_ The questions churned around in her head, loud and blaring. Temptation had her cursing her loss of control.

What's worse, she couldn't tell when it had started slipping away. He was stripping her of her defenses and he wasn't even  _doing_  anything but talking! Oh, but his voice-  _Stop it, shut up!_

She wasn't going to speak. She wasn't going to speak. She wasn't…

"Stalkers don't just sit down and converse! Don't for a  _fucking_  minute think I don't know what you're planning! I know you covet my allegiance, I'm not stupid nor was I born yesterday. So give me one Goddamn reason why I shouldn't get up and leave." snapped the Hellfire sharply, leg muscles tensed to rise. She turned to meet the eyes of the Supernova; this time she did not falter in her stare. Though, she did feel her stomach flip at the intensity boring out from Law's grey eyes; it was a very penetrating look he was giving her. Like a predator watching prey.

Law's eyes lit up with triumph as he heard Jillian speak. She was highly perceptive. He would have to choose his words carefully here. One wrong word, one threat and he'd lose the game of delicate bantering. It was a challenge he relished in partaking. Jillian was a worthy opponent, worthy of being a Heart pirate.

Dark eyes suddenly landed on the chess board and smoldered with devious delight.

Smirking mischievously Law waved a hand, "Do you play?"

Jillian was caught off guard ( _again!_ ) at Law's abrupt shift in demeanor. She was immediately suspicious about his intentions. Surely there was an ulterior motive? A chance to draw her focus to something else so he could move in and ambush her. Blue-teal eyes narrowed, lips curled, "I don't know, it depends on whether you're planning something. Since you seem so  _set_  on me joining you, what's stopping you from ambushing me when I'm distracted with making a move? I don't trust you."

Law leaned back, adjusted his grip on his nodachi, and replied, "Trust has nothing to do with chess, Miss Jillian, but if you're so anxious I was only going to propose a simple wager."

Oh bastard, he was a bastard! Jillian ground her teeth and glared at the table, then glared at the chess board. He was playing hard ball in saying that she was anxious in his presence. He was also throwing her an evil curve ball in the form of a hook. Enticing her with a game and pushing it further with higher stakes. The stakes were already high; she'd been giving him too many cues and he was leading. Always keeping one step ahead of her throwing lines and seducing her curious side when she really shouldn't give a damn. Who knew taking stabs at the dark was this dangerous. Or…was Law just that good at manipulation…?

Could she put all her cards on the table and say yes? Would that be giving in to his manipulations? Did she want to?  _No._  He wanted her to say yes, wanted her to be curious. She wouldn't be. She would leave and not look back. Damn Law and his stupid interesting wager.

Jillian slanted a reluctant glance at the chess board, she hadn't played in twenty years. Releasing a silent sigh Jillian made to get up-

And was stopped by a hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Stay."

Jillian stared, eyes slightly wide, down at the tan, tattooed hand, and sent its owner an agitated glare. "Why should I!" she hissed after a small contemplative pause. For a moment there she'd been shocked speechless by the sudden contact. Jillian wasn't used to being touched, especially with such familiarity.

"Because you want to," came the confident retort. Law caught the look and read its meaning easily.

Jillian knew it was a bad idea, hell even the little voice of reason in her head knew it was a bad idea. She should leave right now, but she was so very tempted nevertheless. Slowly, Jillian sat back down and nearly spat at Law's face when she caught his expression of satisfaction.

"…Fine, but any sly shit and I'll rip your fingers off. Now tell me about this wager?" Jillian said curtly. She was uncaring of the fact that Law seemed none too happy about her short order.  _Deal with it you arrogant asshole!_

Under his amusement and the feeling of elation in getting Jillian to stay, there was that steadily growing ire that he had hidden under his mocking politeness and unthreatening smile. Law was not a man easily angered but when he was…it wasn't pretty. The Dark Doctor felt his smile stretch into a smirk that was both razor-sharp and challenging.

 _There would be a time for disciplining_ , Law conceded silently while watching Jillian stare at the board. Taking a deep breath to calm himself Law continued forward with what he had planned. It wouldn't do to lose his temper during such delicate standings.

Law locked eyes with Jillian a second time, smile firmly in place, voice rich with cool simplicity, "For every piece I capture, you will answer one question of mine and vice versa."

Jillian dropped her gaze slowly, ruminating over the pros and cons. There were many to be sure, but the window for knowledge was open. Jillian didn't want to miss the chance to gather some recon on her hunter. What he was asking was risky; she'd have to be careful of his questions, especially the ones about her past, about  _her._  It would not do for a human to dally in matters far beyond his station. It would surely get him killed along with everyone around him for that matter. And as much as Jillian hated Law she didn't want to see him cut down, his men slaughtered. It would be more red in her ledger.

"Fine, but we  _both_  get three passes." stated the Hellfire sternly, she would not be denied in this. On seeing Law's nod Jillian relaxed some and considered the board. Her side was black so that meant Law would have the first move. Good, she would be able to see and guess his strategy first.

Resolve and focus hardening Sonneillon B. Jillian waited and watched and geared herself for war.

She wouldn't give him the pleasure of asking one question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another one done. Yay! And, wow, this sure is a long one! Enjoy! Tell me what'cha think! XD
> 
> (1) - A valentine day dragon from Dragon Cave.
> 
> (2) - Lowest part of the sternum. A heart shot.


	9. Devil's Chess Game

_"All your secrets crawl inside,_

_You keep them safe, you let_

_them hide. You feel them_

_drinking in your pain to kill_

_the memories. So close your_

_eyes and let it hurt. Lie to me._

_Walk away. Lie to me. Leave_

_me in denial!"_

**Lie To Me by Red**

It was small. Ridiculously so.

Thin, white, and deceptively harmless looking.

Kid knew better.

It was sharp and durable; a needle.

A needle that wasn't metal, therefore he had no control over it. Absolutely none at all. Its color and texture wasn't that of some unknown alloy but of bone. Who fought with bone these days? Kid stared at the weapon with brooding eyes and snorted. His explosive temper had cooled after a good day and a half, it was still there, of course, but Kid hadn't survived the Grand Line on aggression and violence alone. This attack against his person had left him with three things; an insight, a weapon, and loads of curiosity.

Dark lips set in a perpetual frown deepened as memories resurfaced. He'd been walking around some random grove searching for his wayward dragon when the sound of stampeding footsteps had met his ears. He would have just brushed it off as some idiot weakling running from the other idiots - marines - had the shouts not reached his ears next. At the words "wyvern" and "sister" Kid had promptly turned on his heel with the intention of hunting down said Wyvern Sister.  _She wouldn't escape him this time._

He'd just exited an alley in time to see a glimpse of teal disappear into another alley some ways down the main street. Kid remembered sneering at the pathetic attempts of the marines; they were too stupid to realize that their target had ducked into an alley.  _What fucking fools,_ had crossed his mind at the time. And the marines  _were_  fools. Because the only one who was going to catch the bitch  _was him._

Waiting for the little bastards to leave had tried what little patience Kid had. The Supernova just wasn't used to waiting for anything or  _anyone_  for that matter. People  _waited_  on  _him_  not the other way around. Hence, why the marines would find three slaughtered privates later on. Eustass "Captain" Kid didn't do patience, not when it involved marines, the scum of the food chain. Kid gave a sneering grin.

The only redeeming quality in his memory were their screams. They, at least, had screamed when he'd wanted them to, and  _oh_  had it given him satisfaction. Usually he left the torturing to Killer but those assholes had been chasing _his_ dragon. So he'd felt the need to teach them a lesson before he sent them to hell. It was a lesson he relished in giving to many.

Though the task had sent the familiar blood-lust shrieking through his veins Kid had ended the bloodletting session early. He did have a dragon to catch as it were. It was a fleeting notion but the thought of making his dragon  _scream_  had him making his way all the quicker. So he'd left the gory scene with a grin and a good mood which wasn't really all that good for anybody but him in the long run. What met his eyes made them narrow and gleam; it had been Skulley J. Liberty and not the other mouthy bitch. If Kid thought killing those three weaklings had brought him gratification than it paled in comparison with what he'd felt upon seeing his dragon  _and_  in a dead-end to boot.

The memories after had the Supernova grinning like the manic many thought him to be. How very wrong those people were. A low dark chuckle slipped past equally dark lips like smoke, there and gone in an instant. His dragon tasted like citrus, warm citrus. Tangy, acidic citrus. He wanted more of it, more of _her_.  _Her lips are mine._  Kid was quickly becoming possessive over his newest conquest. The furious urge didn't bother the Supernova; Kid simply owned things, claimed them and marked them as his. And it wouldn't be long, in Kid's mind, until he claimed Lib. A gold bangled wrist came up, fingers holding the delicate needle in front of him; it was an interesting weapon, one Kid wasn't familiar with at all. Though in a way it fit; an equally sapid weapon for an equally sapid woman. The wide rapacious smile on Kid's face would've disturbed any normal person.

Even more interesting was the little secret the needle held. Wire, his doctor, had examined the slim weapon after he'd been brought back to his ship  _paralyzed._ The bitch had stabbed him with a needle that had paralyzed him. Not all of him but his whole left side had gone numb seconds after the attack. There hadn't been much pain from the hit but his pride had definitely been bruised. Yet, the needle had been a calling card. It had been that same night that Wire had ventured back to his Captain's cabin with news that the needle was… _hollow_. _Fucking hollow!_

There had been residue left over, a very small amount, inside the chamber but Wire had attributed Kid's state of paralysis with a type of poison or drug. The realization had been startling. Skulley J. Liberty fought with needles and  _poison_. The  _bitch_  had dared to poison  _him!_ It was no wonder he'd been so enraged at according to Wire it was a poison that he had no record of; it was unknown, dangerous, and had no cure. Luckily Kid had slept the damnable poison off after two days of hair-trigger fury and boredom. His crew, besides Killer, had not fared well.

Kid smirked at the memory of watching his men run like pussies under a hail of sharp metal. It had been the one thing during his recovery that had made him even remotely happy. But for all the time in bed Kid hadn't been sitting idle, oh no, his mind had worked furiously on the subject of Skulley J. Liberty.

She was dangerous. She was mysterious. She fought with poisoned needles. And apparently she had never been kissed before.  _He wanted her._

His curiosity had roiled at all the unanswered questions, it still was. Kid leaned back on his bed slowly, leisurely, and continued to stare at the little needle. There was something else that lingered in his memory. Something that wouldn't let itself be explained; a phenomenon that had caught his eye. It had been at the end when he thought he'd had her, something had happened then that eluded his understanding now. His dragon was a literal  _fucking_ puzzle.

And it pissed him off.

He felt like he was going in Goddamn circles and still managing to miss what was niggling at him. A growl of frustration hissed through Kid's teeth as he clenched them. He felt like he was missing something every time he reviewed the last part of the confrontation. Something had changed between him kissing Lib and her attacking him but what the hell was it?

Red eyes suddenly narrowed; the bitches eyes…

Her eyes had been  _different._

Didn't Liberty have brown eyes with a ring of teal around the iris? Then why did she have teal eyes in his memory during and after the attack? Had they changed somehow?

And what had made the change?

The skin under his right eye twitched. A second later saw an empty needle thudding into the wall of the Captain's cabin.

 _Too many fucking questions!_ Kid hissed angrily and glared at the needle across his room. Its owner was a clutter fuck of mystery. A mystery he would solve once he got a hold of her. Skulley J. Liberty would tell him  _what the hell_ was up with her eyes,  _why_  her voice had changed along with it, and she would prove to him that she was a virgin like he thought she was.

 _Oh yes_ , they had lots to talk about next time. And there  _would_  be a next time.

Red eyes grew dark and calculating, churning with ideas and schemes.

He'd pin her down next time, only next time wouldn't end with an attack.

It would end far more  _pleasurable_.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Law smiled slightly, tauntingly. "Lady's first."

Jillian glared at the human with suspicious eyes; white always made the first move regardless of gender, and Law had white.  _What are you up to._  She pointedly stared at his side and the white that marked it.

Either Law was ignoring her silent  _get-a-move-on_  or he was just being quietly facetious. The tension was quickly making her agitated. "I am not going to move, Trafalgar, since white _always_ starts the game," the Hellfire muttered, voice tinged with a surly growl. If he was trying to intimidate her through silence it wasn't going to work; Jillian felt too irked, too fed up with the situation to get psyched out by him.

"Very well, Miss Jillian." A slow, patronizing smirk. Long, tan fingers moved a pawn forward one square before retreating. Blue-teal eyes grew watchful and shrewd. Law was under critical scrutiny now… but then so was she. It didn't take much for Jillian to see the same look of vigilant calculation in grey eyes. He was as on guard and ready as she was.

"Good," Jillian said, lips quirked in an odd smile, feeling suddenly playful and daring. It was a strange swell of emotion but one she didn't outright shoot down. She'd rather enjoy herself than have a horrible time while playing chess. It was her favorite game of strategy after all. Even if her partner was unsightly the game itself was not, so she would  _enjoy_  herself.

"Confident?" Law questioned, grey eyes trained on Jillian's hands. It was still her turn and she had yet to move.

Jillian snorted, glancing at the man across the table. "Am I?" She inquired ambiguously. Law's eyes immediately darkened at her swift deflection, clever mind churning, uncovering her ploy; he'd caught on to her game and it showed, his gaze heavy and penetrating as it locked with hers. Blue-teal eyes glittered with sharp,  _sardonic_  humor, giving nothing away. Why should she answer when no pieces had been captured. There was no obligation.

Law's smirk grew tenfold; how utterly cunning Jillian was in rebuffing his advance, slight as it was. Nevertheless, the Heart pirate captain felt satisfied by the simple demonstration of intelligence as he stared down his wily opponent. Voice smooth and husky, "Planning on trouncing me, Miss Jillian?"

Said woman scoffed with rancor, eyes perusing her side with careful diligence. A moment of thought later saw Jillian moving her first pawn on the field with firm determination. There was no way she would give the bastard time to unnerve her with his velvet tones and half-lidded eyes. She would focus on the game, on her strategy, and pay no attention to the hot pool of sensation growing in her belly. She  _would not_ get aroused by Trafalgar Law.

She refused.

Nodding curtly to herself Jillian concentrated all her energy on the board and Law's next move. In the span of a second her whole demeanor  _changed_.

…

Ten minutes past in silence, human and dragon moving slowly, cautiously testing the waters of the others skill. It was a delicate dance of fingers and tactics, one both parties secretly relished. Jillian made her moves slowly, eyes always taking in Law's side with careful consideration. Chess was all about reading and anticipating your opponents strategy and countering it; traps were common place, expected, and it would not do for Jillian to underestimate his ability. Law showed the same capacity for thoughtful action, all with that same smirk curling his lips. His moves were bold, quick, and decisive, however there was a definite layer of subtle deception that was obvious.

It had Jillian smiling cryptically. Her eyes adopted that musing, faraway look she always wore right as she was about to make a move. It was something Law had caught on to three moves earlier. Interesting. It was the only expression she allowed through on her otherwise blank poker-face.

Law chuckled leisurely, body deceptively relaxed. "I am bemused," he spoke with a smile, "You do not appear under pressure." A delusive statement. After twelve minutes of playing no piece had been taken; Law didn't know whether to be overly satisfied by Jillian's evasive skill or impatient that he'd yet to capture a black piece. He'd go with the satisfaction. Impatience had no place in chess anyway.

A barely perceivable change in expression then. Law watched the Hellfire closely; would she give something away in this game of deceit, he could only watch and wonder. Though, his words _had_ hit a chord of some sort. His subtle prod against her change in composure had not left him empty-handed. Law wanted her to be  _aware_  of his knowledge, aware of the fact that he… _knew._

Law did not miss the ghost of tension in slender shoulders. The message had been received loud and clear it seemed. "I see that made you angry, Miss Jillian." Law chuckled, eyes alight with dark admiration as she shifted abruptly, becoming aggressive in her game. And that admiration heightened as Jillian drew first blood with the capture of his rook.  _Now what will you ask_ … _?_

Such a question sent curiosity and anticipation curling through his gut. Law waited.

Straightening in her seat, Jillian looked at the thorn in her side. It had been a while since their impromptu game had started and yet…there was…a sense of… _holding back._ Brows furrowing Jillian contemplated the notion that Law might have given her the first question. It was probable. Highly probable, actually. Jillian accepted the notion with not an ounce of wariness but detached reception. Nevertheless, she could not ignore what was so blatant. This man was a manipulator. A bloodied mastermind in scholarly disguise.

Her gaze was veiled and languid, "I," Jillian murmured with a small, wry smile, "…can appreciate the beauty of a well-laid trap." Precarious, her words were, even to the point of outright allegation. The risky declaration had a thrill streaking down her spine and sweat beading at her neck. The expression on Law's face was one that was hard to meet; Jillian didn't like being stared at so…directly. That secretive smirk full of smug trickery and challenge provoked her with her own temper, it was even worse combined with those penetrating eyes which watched her so intently, so  _devilishly_. It was as if he knew something she did not, a fact that bit and clawed at her nerves ruthlessly.

What knowledge could Law have that garnered such a look? Then again, Law already had the upper hand in this battle of wits. Jillian blamed the disadvantage on her drunken divulgence. The bastard held dangerous information. Very, very dangerous information, in fact. Which meant she would have to be on her game till she got away from him. She would have to be extra vigilant while playing, no mistakes, no  _distractions_ , none least she be asked a question she couldn't answer. It wouldn't do for her to slip up anymore than she had in the past.

That night in The Rusty Boot had been a happenstance, a mere coincidence. But for it to happen a second time…

Blue-teal eyes narrowed.

From behind the relative safety of her mask Jillian felt the intensity of Law's gaze. He was watching her like a hawk. Watching and waiting for her question. Watching her while she was lost in rumination. Jillian blinked at the realization and nearly cursed at her folly. Damn it, she'd been vulnerable! Her guard hadn't been up all the way!  _Fuck it!_   _No wonder he's watching me so damn closely! I'm giving him something to watch!_

The Hellfire's face immediately smoothed, emotions vanishing under a wall of cool indifference; whatever expression Law observed so avidly disappeared. Her mask regained its inscrutability with a sharp, brutal mental jerk. Needing a diversion to seal the major window she'd given the Supernova Jillian spat out the first question on her mind. The one that had lingered there since the night in the bar.

"You were watching me in the bar, Trafalgar, but how did you find me in such an inconspicuous place?"

Law was quite entertained at the moment. How very intriguing it was to learn that Sonneillon B. Jillian was rather…expressive. Just what was she hiding behind that poker-face of hers? The Dark Doctor chuckled malevolently, it was amusing to see her slip up, even more so when she noticed the fact herself.

Ah, what an astute question. Law steepled his fingers lazily and grinned at the Hellfire's sudden impatience. It seemed Jillian didn't like to be kept waiting, a bit of common ground they shared. Still smiling the Surgeon of Death contemplated how he would word his answer. There were  _so many ways_ of explaining it and each would have a different reaction. The need for experimentation was strong, Law did not resist it. No, not when he was curious, not when Jillian was proving to be far more  _intricate_  than he'd anticipated. She wasn't just a puzzle, his wyvern possessed several layers of mystery to explore, and he was itching to go on an expedition.

"Aren't you going to answer or is your silence merely time for producing a lie?" came the snarky barb. Impatient, so very impatient. Grey eyes gleamed as they locked with blue-teal; Jillian's gaze continued to fascinate him and he was loath to look away.

He didn't.

She did.

Law smiled slowly, he could almost  _taste_  the uncomfortable vibe surrounding Jillian as she glanced away. Feeling just a tad bit sinister Law opted for provocation, a subtle provocation. "A piece of paper, Miss Jillian." Simple, short, and deliciously cryptic; would she recognize his angle? He was not disappointed when the glaze of concentration fell over the Hellfire's face, she was thinking, deciphering his answer. Watching it, the emotions flitting over her features like a roll film, brought a curious epiphany to Law's mind.

Sonneillon B. Jillian was an enigma, however, she was also a study in  _contrasts_. What he'd seen so far of her personality did not run parallel with what lingered in his memory; the Jillian he remembered would've done her best to escape him with wide terrified eyes, while the Jillian before him stared him down challengingly with tense shoulders and razor blade smiles. Again, what had changed? Or, Law pondered, was there no change at all? Was _this_ her real personality? He could only wonder…for now.

_A piece of paper? Damn it! I can't use my nose to tell if he's lying! Argh! Fuck!_

Jillian glared at the board seething for all she was worth. A piece of paper! How was a  _piece of paper_ supposed to find someone! It was entirely too noncommittal! Was that even allowed? She tried glaring at the evasive bastard but he was looking down at the board - conveniently - _ignoring_ her! She didn't care if he was  _busy_ planning his next move she wasn't  _done with him!_

Fangs grinding something fierce, a low threatening growl bubbling up the back of her throat, Jillian ground out, "I don't  _like_  humans following me, Trafalgar, so how bout you give me a real _fucking_ answer this time," Law looked up and she nearly, very nearly snarled at the hooded glint of devious smugness that lurked there, "and not some bullshit made to  _piss me off_."

She didn't care that it had been a trap. If he wanted to play the fool and prod the monster that was her temper than that was his decision.  _Fine, you ugly asshole!_

Fun. Law hadn't had this much fun since torturing that rookie crew three islands back. There was a lot less blood involved but that was okay, Jillian was present at the moment so Law was quite content with the situation. Though, right now she looked ready to go for his throat. He found the possible danger  _exhilarating._ As well as her control which was, perhaps, even more interesting. With how infuriated she was she still hadn't lost herself to it.

Law wondered just how far he had to push till she finally lashed out.

Grey gaze glittering with wicked emotion, Law spoke, voice calm and cultured, "I don't talk bullshit Miss Jillian. My answer was just that - an answer. You will not always be in a position where answers are worded for you pleasure." An esoteric hint and jab.

Leaning forward, Law reached across the board for a pawn and pushed it forward. "I apologize for disappointing you, " he mocked.

Jillian, in her defense, did not go after the bait this time but sat and glared at the pirate seated across from her. How could she possibly be attracted to  _this!_ Shaking that thought out of her head Jillian focused on her next move. He was definitely upping the ante with his last advance, damn bastard knew how to play. But Jillian wasn't really worried. Her experience far outstripped his.

After making a decision between two pieces Jillian scooted her knight in the usual 'L' shaped fashion. Law commented with a smooth, "Prudent, " which she matched with a scoffing sneer.

"But not prudent enough," he continued arrogantly, reaching for his king and attacking from an unexpected position on the board. Jillian raised her eyes to his and hissed, "Ask your damn question."

If Law had thought Jillian's previous posture had been tense before what he was seeing now far surpassed it. Like stone, she sat in front of him, unmoving and death-like. He reckoned this reaction to her feeling threatened…or cornered. While Jillian possessed a remarkable control over her emotions Law found it easy to read other less guarded things about her. Like, for instance, her posture now; when someone felt threatened it usually led to secrets or weaknesses. If Jillian had wanted even the slightest chance of throwing him off she should've faced him with cool indifference, not this hair-trigger tension.

Now what would he ask? Several questions immediately came to the forefront of his mind. But he would not rush into his decision; he'd let her stew in her uneasiness, it brought a sense of triumph that he could unsettle her so. Plus, he liked to watch Jillian squirm. Everything about her was different,  _inhuman_ , and it beguiled his mind every time he laid eyes on her. And there was so much to her, so many facets to discover. It was even more addictive when said facets didn't mesh with each other. Jillian was a literal puzzle full of missing jagged pieces.

She presented such an enthralling picture that Law was torn between the urge of shoving the chessboard aside, drawing her into his lap, and letting his hands feel those curves again, or picking a question.

He had to be very discreet with any pretension in this particular _interrogation._

Tilting his head just so, Law hid his expression of devilment under the shade of his hat. Jillian saw none of the nefarious calculations swimming in grey eyes.

"Tell me why you didn't run when I approached you from behind?" The tone was authoritative and demanding; it rankled to hear such an imperious command and  _not_ have the option of  _fuck you_.

…Wait a minute.  _Passes._ She could use one of her passes. But the question was…would he ask a far more intrusive inquiry on the next round? It was an obvious strategy. Too obvious for their  _game. Or whatever the hell he's doing. Tricky muckworm!_

Jillian chuckled suddenly, eyes alight with patronizing scorn. She spoke with the hint of a smirk, "A simple question with a simple answer. My  _senses_."  _Ha, take that you arrogant son of a bitch! Taste your own fucking medicine for a change._

Law never lost his smirk, nor his cool expression, but Jillian did not miss the flicker of displeasure flit across his eyes. Though it was gone in an instant and Jillian had half a mind that she'd imagined the flicker. The sight of that miniscule emotion, however had Jillian feeling very self-satisfied nevertheless. It took two to tango and right now  _she_  was the one leading. The feeling of momentary elation carried over to her turn. She made her move with confidence and sent a barbed-wire smile Law's way while she was at it.

Law wasn't bothered by her actions, opting to stay quiet and watch with dark unfathomable eyes. Jillian hated not being able to read him, it left her with very few straws to grab and manipulate. With an inward snort the Hellfire refocused on the game and her strategy; he'd gotten a question in and though it hadn't been a difficult one to answer Jillian didn't want to give him anymore opportunities. She felt secure in the knowledge that she could lie and dodge the proverbial bullet but she'd rather not have to dodge at all.

Her mask would hold in this strange but dangerous game…her life depended on it.

Information was  _deadly._ Especially the information that festered in her mind like carrion filth. Law didn't know it yet but he wanted _nothing_ to do with her or the knowledge she carried. Because if he got involved…

Dead. He would be  _dead._

Along with everyone else that knew him.

Law watched in studious silence as Jillian made her move; a daring spot she'd placed her bishop. His wyvern was proving to be a very…passive-aggressive in their game of chess, such behavior was notable when compared with her earlier flightiness. He enjoyed the challenge she presented, and even the snarky obstinance of her retaliations. Also in the fact that—

A slight change in the demeanor of the woman in front of him abruptly caught Law's attention. Instantly, his eyes were trained on her; there was no perceivable alteration to her posture, it was still tense, and had nothing to do with her expression - the blank poker-face, slight smile, and narrowed watchful eyes…

…It was there. So small, so covert that Law had to stare harder to grasp it. But it was there. A tiny variation hidden within the obscurity of her smile. That smile she was wearing, it did not follow the pattern of her behavioral expression, nor did it contribute to her poker-face. In a shrewd, calculating way, Law was able to decode the difference…and was met with more mystery.

Staring, Law realized what he was glimpsing was rare, a chink in Jillian's mask possibly.

Because suddenly, all the tension, the distrust and baiting; that playful daring that acted like a second layer of armor; all of it made sense the moment he perceived the meaning behind that smile.

A smile drenched in agony.

And… _self-hatred_.

Then it was gone.

Five seconds. Five seconds of observation before it vanished back under the mask Jillian wore everywhere. Yet, the impact of such a sight lingered like shadows in Law's mind. Again his curiosity had been pricked; the mystery of Sonneillon B. Jillian grew ever deeper. With nonchalant grace Law plucked up his last rook and blocked Jillian's wily move of her bishop.

Then he went back to staring.

She captured his white rook with her next move. Straightening in her seat, Jillian looked at the pirate with guarded eyes. Law noted the change instantly. Anyone with…less observational skills would quickly find themselves  _overwhelmed_  by all the shifts in countenance. Anyone with _average_ observational skills would find themselves lost in deciphering whether Jillian was emoting anything at all.

Good thing Trafalgar Law wasn't average.

"…Why are you doing this- Wait, no…what," Jillian's voice trailed off, her face showing visible signs of confliction. Law watched raptly. "…What is you motive f-for…for-  _damn it!_ " Law raised an eyebrow; Jillian appeared unable to say something.

Of course, his curiosity at her question heightened.

Seemingly bracing herself Jillian turned her gaze to his, eyes stern and glaring, and viciously spat, "Why the _fuck_ are you a-arousing me!" The words sounded so confused, angry, and unnerved that Law could not keep a laugh down. It spilled out from his lips like lukewarm honey, heavy and amused. Jillian's glare darkened at his mocking chuckle, lips parting to release a snarl Law had only heard once. That one time back in the clearing when mister Eustass had threatened the other Wyvern Sister.

Jillian was angry.  _Good_ , thought the Surgeon of Death with dark pleasure.

It would appear Jillian held some _resentments_ about the other night. Law chuckled softly, grey eyes half-lidded with languid fixation. Speaking with a voice of smooth poison, "I pass."

Silence.

… _Snap_ …

Jillian lunged.

And it was far faster than Law had anticipated. She easily cleared the table and slammed into his form, a snarl of rage echoing in his ears as his chair tipped backward. They landed in a heap on the floor but Jillian wasn't bothered with the change in position. All that was on her mind was making the male beneath  _feel pain_ and feel it _now._ Which was probably why, in her primal fury, Law was able to block all of his vital points with a mere but  _loud_ distraction.

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Skulley J. Liberty listened numbly with a sense of detached horror.

_The Strawhats._

What Shakky was telling her…it couldn't be true. Liberty was not naïve. No, the world had ripped any veil over her eyes off long, long ago. But this- this was just insane, cruel, and  _unfair._

She really like the Strawhats. They were funny, especially their goofy captain. Their one-of-a-kind captain. God, but the world needed more Luffy's. For as old as she was Lib had never met anyone with a soul as bright as Luffy's.

And to hear what Shakky was telling her. To actually hear that someone was going to wipe them out, kill them, was just too much. Of course, Lib wasn't so delusional as to believe that there weren't those who wanted the rookie crew dead  _but still!_

Even worse…it hadn't happened yet.

But it would and soon from what Shakky was telling her.

And Shakky never, ever lied.

For once Liberty cursed her old friends honesty.

The Tri-horn closed her eyes, feeling that deep-set pain pulse from its nest in her heart. She couldn't…allow it.

Not again.

Never again.

No more.

_Death._

Brown-teal eyes snapped open the glint in them steely. Determined. Terrified. Wings appeared in a flash and then she was gone from the bed. Gone. Gone. Gone.

Shakky stood there and stared at her busted window. A moment later heard a sigh echo around the guest room…and the end of her explanation.

"…Bartholomew Kuma is staging it to _save_ them."

 _Maybe_ , Shakky pondered while pulling out a cigarette,  _I should've said that first_.

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Sonneillon B. Jillian was angry to the point of not caring that her composure had shattered. Angry enough to disregard the fact that Law had probably done it on purpose. A clever baiting that she'd fallen right into. Jillian could've cared less. She'd been so very intent on the question, so very tense over the  _answer_ ; Law rejecting it was just not acceptable in her books. And to actually  _say it_ to the bastard had seriously strained her pride. To have Law throw it back in her face with his damnable sardonic arrogance had pushed her too far.

It was like he  _knew_  the question was personal to her. The answer even more priceless.  _Damn him!_ She'd fucking  _kill_  him! Then she'd never have to feel that strange heat ever again. There would be no arousing! Maybe, the supposed attraction to the human would die along with him.

Jillian hoped so.

Snarling the Hellfire sent her fingers for Law's Kyosen, Tanchu, and Murasame points. (1)

Out of nowhere, at a speed that slightly startled her, hands clamped down around her wrists and yanked sideways.

The sudden shift of weight had Jillian falling forward…against Law.

The next thing she knew, a pair of warm lips captured her own.

The pool of heat trembled and churned and Jillian panicked at the sensation.

"Mmphh _–_ "

Gasping only made it worse; Jillian tried jerking her head back to no avail. The Heart pirate captain had a tight grip on her hands.  _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ Her eyes snapped open wide in shock when Law's other hand circled her waist, bodily moving her until she was situated between his legs. It was an intimate position, a very close position. Jillian could feel him everywhere, she'd never been so flush against a male. She was literally plastered against the Supernova. The panic that sprang up at that realization took her sanity away.

She felt cornered. Her first instinct was to lash out with her fists, only Law had a bruising grip restraining them. He was unbelievably strong for a human, actually Jillian was shocked (again!) by the fact that humans could be so strong. In her mind she saw them as weak-bodied creatures. Well, the man holding her down definitely wasn't weak-bodied!

Spirits, she was too close to him! Her body was already starting to betray her! The heat was spreading.

"Comfortable?" came the husky inquiry by her ear. The hot moist air against her skin had her yelping, eyes growing wider if possible.

Jillian felt the caress of skin ghost over her cheek and then they were staring at each other. Her temper seethed through her veins when she saw the gleam of masculine delight in his, and all panic promptly fled as her level of fury escalated. Goddamn him! He needed to release her or she'd spear him with her tail! Jillian had never been comfortable with anyone in close proximity - except Lib - and Law was breaking barriers.  _He was too fucking close!_ His body was too firm and toned underneath hers, and their position was just… _Gah! Shut up you piece of shit body!_

She wasn't enjoying her predicament. She  _wasn't!_

But the arrogant bastard knew that, didn't he?

Jillian snarled when she couldn't find any purchase to reel back off the asshole.  _Damn tile!_ Snapping her fangs, Jillian glared at the smirking fool, and spat, "What the hell do you think you _–_ "

She was cut off, her words swallowed by his mouth taking hers with slow deep pulls. Her arms, now held tight to her sides, made it impossible for her to remove herself from him. She couldn't even death roll off him, nor could she propel herself, and to make things worse…her concentration was shot so transforming was a bust.  _This cannot be happening_ , Jillian thought in growing desperation. Trafalgar Law was taking this too far. He was  _human!_

Spirits, she could feel her heart hammering. He could probably feel it too. With all the willpower she possessed, she forced herself to ignore the coiling wire twisting in her gut, the need to release noises that wouldn't help her at all, and the heated glaze taking over her mind. She would not react to his persistent kisses. She forced herself to ignore that she was growing quickly aroused even while she continued to struggle against him. Her senseless traitorous body might lust after his ministrations, but her mind refused, outright refused to give in to him. Her instincts were screaming, shrieking at her to fight, to struggle, to gut him and make him bleed.

He broke their kiss abruptly, leaving her feeling scorched and violated. In a voice which sent chips of ice and magma down her spine, he murmured, "Stop resisting."

 _Spirits, that voice should be declared illegal_ , she thought as her insides lurched and she groaned. A second later had her cursing mentally for making a sound. A seemingly wanton sound that had Law chuckling which just wasn't fair. His chuckle did bad things to her desperately fighting body.

"Let me go!" she hissed furiously, her fingers clenching even though she could not move her arms which were still pinned to her sides. "I'll fucking claw you to Verdaron! I swear!" (2)

Law merely raised a brow. "You do not like my answer, Miss Jillian?" he drawled with mock surprise.

"What are you talking about!" said dragon growled, glaring at him.

And then the underlying meaning of his words stuck her, making her mouth wordlessly in disbelief. He…he dared to kiss her to answer her _fucking question!_ Him answering a question was no excuse to maul her like this! No! Just no! This was not show-and-tell! This wasn't the time for that old stupid adage actions-speak-louder-than-words! _Fuck that!_

Jillian could feel the rage shifting inside of her, waking up. Trafalgar Law really had some damned audacity to tread over her like this. It was too much for her to take lying down. Literally.

And thus she summoned her tail.

Law's eyes widened when she sent the scaly appendage hurtling for his head, and a second later, Jillian found herself shoved to the side. The quicksilver movement threw off her aim just enough for Law to keep his head.

Sensing that she was no longer held captive Jillian rolled to her feet, stance wide and predatory. Rage and instinct made her visibly tremble with the effort of not transforming and blasting him with her fire, but she couldn't least she kill innocents. That fact was the only one saving the Supernova at the moment. If they'd been alone…

Jillian's lips curled in a terrible snarl.

"You had _no right_ to do that," she ground out tightly, slit eyes trained on him as he rose to his feet. She took several steps back to maintain a safe distance between them, it would not do for him to try something else, she couldn't risk him pissing her off anymore than she already was. If she lost it here there would be bloodshed, innocent bloodshed.

Unreadable grey eyes took in her furious form before slanting down toward the dark scaled tail that waved in agitation behind her. With a casual shrug, "Perhaps not."

Jillian stared in muted disbelief. "P-perhaps…" She trailed off incredulously. At this point Jillian didn't  _know what_ to feel. She felt so many conflicting emotions that it was hard to recognize which was which. Should she be pissed at him, shocked at his sheer audacity and daring, aroused at his gall, numb because he tired her out with all his confusing manipulations, or all the above.

The Hellfire picked the most familiar, but probably the most dangerous - anger.

" _Perhaps not?!_ " she abruptly shrieked. "Are you fucking kidding me!"

Law watched her with impassive eyes.

Huffing at the injustice of her life Jillian tried to compose herself enough to dispel her tail. She did so with barely restrained violence. They had enough onlookers watching them without the need for more.  _Do not go for his throat, don't even think about!_

Feeling as if she was about to implode, she decided that she should leave before she did something she'd regret; like transform and kill everyone. With a scornful hiss, Jillian swiveled around intent on leaving the bastard and everything that had happened behind.

…

"So at the first taste of danger, Miss Jillian runs like a coward. I was under the impression that you had more guts than that."

Jillian stopped dead in her tracks at the smug voice. It dripped with disappointment and mockery. He was playing his head games again. Taunting her pride, hitting right where it counted, and forcing her to turn and face him.

Her breath swooshed out of her as she whirled around, tension and awareness hummed through her entire body when she realized that he had moved. Law had picked up his chair and was now sitting in it with a challenging smile that provoked her competitive side. His grey gaze bore into hers expectantly as if he were waiting for something to happen that he hoped would happen.

His words bounced around in her head, rubbing her the wrong way with their meaning and tone. Law really was an arrogant bastard. What was he waiting for? Her to sit down and continue their game? And after what he just pulled! Was he serious?

One look at him… _Damn it, he's serious!_

Trafalgar  _fucking_  Law wanted her to continue playing with him.

This man was… _impossible!_

"…Fine, but if you so much as  _twitch_ closer to me I will be gone faster than a Sea King after blood!" Jillian growled, a hand coming up to rub at her eyes in frustration. A groan escaped her as she forcibly pulled her chair back to the table and sat down.

Two minutes later saw Law capturing one of Jillian's knights. It had her rolling her eyes and glaring off to the side. Law found it rather amusing as he decided on a question.

The Supernova smirked as an idea surfaced. "Were you the one who slaughtered the Celestial Dragon hundreds of years ago?"

Jillian jerked back at the question, eyes somewhat wide. Where had _that_ come from? Mind moving fast, Jillian stared at Law with narrowed eyes. Why would he want such a question answered? How did he even _know_ about that in the first place? It's not like the celestial shitbags advertised their black marks to the world, no they had a reputation to uphold, didn't they.

Nevertheless, she couldn't give out intimate intel to a mere human whose nose was getting a little  _too close_ to matters that weren't his business. With a snort, Jillian muttered, "Pass."

And then she reached across the board to block his attack on her other bishop. Jillian threw the pirate a surly curl of the lips when he smirked at her; she was coming to hate any smirk or smile that graced his face. It never failed to irritate her every time she saw it. Oh, how she wished she could _rip it_ off his face. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

Law wasn't lost on her expression of glee, it was amusing even if he sensed it was about him. Three moves later, each one a block or an advancement, saw Law taking a pawn hostage. But it was a necessary sacrifice in Jillian's mind, the only downfall was the stupid question.

"Why did I find you drowning yourself in alcohol, Miss Jillian?" Uh oh, another dangerous question. Jillian could feel the grimace tipping her lips just as she felt her stomach drop to her ankles.  _Damn it!_  Why was he suddenly asking these intrusive questions! She seriously felt like she was playing dodge the bullet right now.

Closing her eyes to push back the swell of memories - the night terror - was harder than usual. Jillian attributed it to how exhausting this whole situation was making her; she was tired, strained, and very _annoyed_. Sighing heavily, mind strangely sluggish, Jillian murmured quietly, reluctantly, "I pass."

To say Law didn't pounce on the sudden but sharp change to his wyvern's demeanor would be an understatement. He took it in with a curious tilt of the head, slightly narrowed eyes, and leaned closer to get a better look.

There was definite pain lurking behind the poker-face. How interesting that she wasn't hiding it, or was it too strong an emotion to hide? And his question had brought it on. It was easy enough to piece together; the nightmare had forced her to drink, was probably a means to quell whatever terror haunted her in her sleep. But, Law's eyes narrowed more, who was the person she'd hinted at while he'd been talking to her in the bar.

_("Don' say tha. Please, don' say tha. You's sounds like 'im.)_

Whoever this unknown individual was had somehow contributed to Jillian's nightmare. Law's jaw clenched, a curl of displeasure tightening in his chest. Sonneillon B. Jillian was  _his_ , and he wouldn't allow anything to damage what belonged to him. Not even her own haunts.

Grey eyes grew possessive, the glint in them foretelling of cunning and murder. Law itched to run his scalpel down Jillian's unknown terrorist, to use his Ope Ope no Mi to slice and dice and play with the pieces. The human body was fascinating to watch when under the grips of unbearable, excruciating  _agony_. He would relish  _every_ moment of the torture. And he'd bet Jillian would too from her position  _beside_  him.

 _All in good time_ , thought the Dark Doctor with a chilling smile.

"It's your turn, Trafalgar, stop getting lost in your sick mind." Jillian snapped irritably. She didn't like the look of absolute carnage on Law's face, nor the touch of possession in his eyes either. He better not be thinking of her with that damnable expression. Said Hellfire cursed the captain's persistence; would he ever let it go; she would  _never_  join him.  _I'd rather die!_

A light chastisement flickered across Law's mind at his loss of concentration. It would not happen again. He looked towards the chessboard to see that Jillian had, in fact, already made her move. Another risky move at that. Could Jillian be getting sloppy, or was the move on purpose, a trap quite possibly. A tattooed finger tapped the table thoughtfully.

"How perverse of you to maneuver me into such an impossible position, Miss Jillian," he complimented, smiling at the glare his words garnered. His smile quickly morphed into a devilish smirk, voice swimming with smooth arrogance, "Do you think I am trapped by that last move?"

Jillian's gaze rose to meet his dark stare with little more than spite and hostility. She snorted at him, lips pulling back in what Law was finding to be her usual show of irritation.

"Oh, I don't know, Trafalgar, but seeing as you haven't moved yet…Hn, are you planning your next move - or regretting your last?" The tone was sickly sweet and full of barbs, Law was supremely entertained…and on guard.

The game was slowly coming down to the wire, it would not do for him to lose his head over a possible double meaning behind one of her hooks. Law ignored her taunt; his eyes busy with studying his pieces and their positions.

Five minutes of strategic rumination resulted in another question on his part as well as a sacrificed pawn.  _But now_ , Law thought with confidence,  _I have her right where I want her._ Grey eyes narrowed with sinister satisfaction.

Smirking deviously, Law stole her last rook, and enjoyed the hiss that caressed his ears afterward.

Just one more…

"Do you always have nightmares,  _my wyvern._ " Law questioned huskily.

Jillian could only blink and stare dumbly at his audacious words, especially those at the  _end_.  _My wyvern? My wyvern!? Hell no! I AM NOT YOURS!_

That ugly temper of hers reared its head again, her instincts with it, and she could not stop the infuriated, choked, snarl ripping from her lips. She hissed knives at him, voice guttural and dark, "Pass, and if you _ever fucking_ say that again,  _Trafalgar_ , I'll skin you _alive!_ "

Law, for his credit, wasn't fazed by such feral animosity; the sight of her fury made her that much more desirable. Seeing her so angry at him, her focus completely held by  _him_ , had Law feeling a sense of triumph that far surpassed any that had come before.

Normally, Law wouldn't suffer anyone threatening him but for this he would make an exception. Just. This. Once.

It appeared Jillian's wrath leaked into her play as her next move was overly aggressive and  _vicious._ She took the field shortly after his win when she snatched another pawn that had been protecting his king. Well, that move had definitely caught him from behind, Law thought with a sort of casual detachment.

Though, upon Jillian's anticipated question he was met with slight surprise. She really didn't like him calling her that. Law chuckled softly.

" _Why the hell_ do you keep asking my all these  _obtrusive questions?_ Stop it,  _damn it!_ As if I have  _enough_ on my  _fucking plate already!_ " the Hellfire bellowed angrily.

The Surgeon of Death watched silently as Jillian heaved several breaths and seemed to sag in on herself. Her eyes which had been all sorts of disdainful, annoyed, jaunty, and daring towards him now looked ancient and so very tired. He memorized the look and put it away for further study later.

Law answered the question in low, sure tones, "Because I can, and I did."

His answer froze the Wyvern Sister and she was both quiet and still for a long time. He didn't interrupt whatever was going on in that brilliant head of hers, it was enough to sit back and guess just by her expressions. A repeated one was confusion followed closely by an emotion Law couldn't identify. Interesting.

Law lowered his gaze from his intriguing crewmate and decided on his next move…and his next question.

His target was the only piece available for attack, another pawn. Funny that she kept putting pawns in his path. Law's eyes narrowed at that thought, a feeling of foreboding filling him that he quashed immediately.

With cool confidence, and a lazy smirk, Law plucked up his queen and took the kill. Jillian growled lowly, scoffed at him, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long.

The captain of the Heart pirates suddenly grew cold and commanding, his question mirroring his disposition, "Who did you mean in The Rusty Boot when you told me not to say "you will be?" You will answer me, Miss Jillian."

Jillian's reaction was explosive and immediate. She lurched backwards, her back slamming against the backrest of her chair, eyes impossibly wide and…terrified? Absolutely terrified. There was a scraping noise, Law noted, that came from Jillian's claws which were so kindly embedded in the chairs arms. Such a strong reaction to a simple question.

Whoever this person was had serious leverage over his wyvern. Law didn't like that.

"Do not make me ask again, Miss Jillian, or I will force it out of you and I promise you will not enjoy the process."

Blue-teal eyes, strangely glazed and void, rose to meet his; Law found his teeth grinding at the utter desolation buried within her eyes. Again, he didn't like what he was seeing, what he was beginning to realize.

_Miss Jillian was acting like a hunted animal._

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_

_God, please no. No, no, no! Don't ask that,_  her mind pleaded desperately.

But he had. Law had asked her  **about him**.

And he wanted her to  _answer_  him.

No, no, no, no.  _No!_ **No.**

Jillian's consciousness buckled in on itself, running away to the deepest part of her psyche. What was she running away from?

 _Him_.

Oh no, not Law. He was a thorn in her side, yes, but he was just a human. Humans were mostly harmless. Law was nothing like…

She swallowed, her tongue feeling too big for her mouth.

She needed to leave, _right now_. Jillian sucked in a quick breath and clenched trembling fingers. Slowly, shakily she rose from her chair. Hands coming down on her shoulders sent her screaming for all she was worth and she threw herself forward like a wild thing. Panic sent her scrambling for any visible escape but Law wasn't having it. With a deep frown he grabbed her again, looking determined to pull answers out of her.

Instead, the Supernova froze, grey gaze trained on something over her shoulder. Jillian felt the tension, the power burst through his tall frame a second before he was shoving her down to the ground with a curse.

That was when she heard the screaming.

 _What the hell!_ Oh Spirits, what was going on!

Law forced her under their table and -  _oh my fucking God!_ \- covered her body with his an instant before a hail of gunfire exploded in her ears. She couldn't help but to cry out at the painfully loud sound. It was so very close.

Someone or  _something_  was shooting at them!

Fear suddenly gripped Jillian; could it be… _him_  shooting at them? No, it wasn't his style.

Trafalgar Law used the metal table as a shield against the ambush; he did have to hand it to whoever was attacking, he'd been caught off guard. His wyvern was very dangerous it would seem, and in more ways than one. The Dark Doctor watched calmly as people around them screamed and staggered like fools in the chaos. He watched them get picked off like flies, their blood splashing across the café floor.

Damn. He'd been  _so_  close, and now this. Law felt his temper rise slightly; interruptions were not tolerated, especially when it involved Jillian. Acute displeasure rattled through him. Another shudder coursed through Jillian's body and he felt it shake his ribcage. He could almost smell her fear.

His first instinct demanded he catch the fool and teach him just  _why_  he was called the Surgeon of Death. Normally this would be his first action but he didn't have a shivering, terrified dragon to protect…or to keep from running off. Jaw tight with steadily growing ire Law growled, "Room."

And hissed, "Shambles," seconds later.

It was a reckless move on his part without his nodachi as a guide but at the moment Law just wanted the culprit  _dead._ He hoped one of the bullets he sent back had hit the shooter in the skull. Or maybe just a graze so the idiot bled to death.

Law waited tensely for all the noise and chaos to settle. He wouldn't risk moving when under direct fire. He wasn't stupid; the shooter was close which meant retreating at the wrong moment would end with an injury. Law didn't care for the running and hiding scenario because he was a Supernova and people needed to know who they were _messing_ with.

Silence.

It was quiet, or as quiet as an ambush aftermath could be. The Dark Doctor wondered fleetingly if he'd killed the fool. A quick glance over the table showed an empty street, everyone had fled the danger zone. They were alone.

Cautiously, Law slid out from under the table, sharp eyes surveying his surroundings. Nothing so far. Frowning darkly, the irritated surgeon grabbed his nodachi from its spot against the side of his chair. Jillian was still crouched awkwardly under the table; her body was trembling, and when Law moved closer he could see the frozen fright on her face. A simple ambush couldn't have been the reason for such crippling fear, or was it something else…

_("Don' say tha. Please, don' say tha. You's sounds like 'im.)_

His frown became cold and dark when that fearful plea echoed across his mind again. With firm, short motions he bent down, grabbed one of Jillian's wrists, and tugged her out and up. She didn't fight him but that was probably a good thing. Law wasn't in the mood for any defiance. Long legs moving suddenly Law dragged a pale shaken Sonneillon B. Jillian around the side of the café, eyes never stopping as they searched for unseen dangers.

The Supernova was irritated and feeling murderous.

It was a good thing no one was around.

A terrible, ingrained fear clawed at Jillian's insides as adrenaline tore through the fog surrounding her brain. Every instinct inside clambered chaotically, screaming for her to run, to vacate the danger zone, but the vice-like grip around her wrist prevented any attempt; Law was holding her,  _stopping_  her. Jillian's eyes narrowed, the wave of sickly terror evaporating under the heat of her wrath.

She'd had  _enough_  of Trafalgar Law for one day.

Tired, drained,  _stunned_ , and feeling like shit on top of that, Jillian grabbed Law's arm, dug her claws in, and wrenched sideways.

"Take your fucking hands off me!" Besides a curt hiss of pain Law ignored her, his back ram-rod straight, legs never faltering.  _How dare he ignore me!_ Carried by rage and indignation Jillian dug her heels in, an angry snarl pulling her lips taut.

"Who the  _fuck_  do you  _think you are!_  Let. Me.  _Go!_ " Acidic fury trembled behind the words; heavy, enraged, defiant. But the effect fell short; Law's back remained a constant insult.

Eyes glowing with bitter hatred Jillian abruptly threw her weight sideways, then she twisted, yanked, and thrashed until Law's restraint finally collapsed. Without warning he whirled, his grip never loosening, and Jillian found herself face to face with the full weight of her captor's displeasure. The brittle smile he wore was bladed and savage, a baring of teeth that darkened his features hellishly. Then the centerpiece; his eyes. Like a roiling storm cloud Law's grey eyes churned with silent rage. The hand around her wrist tightened brutally, bones crunching under the furious grip. Refusing to allow Jillian even a chance to react Law jerked his arm back, ripping the Hellfire clean off her feet, and dragging her to his body.

"Do you think to escape me, Miss Jillian, hm?" he hissed against her ear, voice frozen with icy menace. Jillian had never seen the pirate captain  _this_  furious before and shockingly enough felt her ruffled dander draining away in the face of it. The Supernova's eyes were slits of dark, jagged ice, their frigid depths freezing her from the inside out. But Law wasn't done, his temper hadn't cooled. Not even close.

With frightening strength he threw her against a brick wall, the impact jarring enough to stun. Three seconds and he was on her, cruel hands forming like iron bands around her, effectively pinning her between the wall and himself. The Hellfire could only stare wide-eyed, dazed, at a loss. Her temper was shot, everything was fuzzy, and she was finding it hard to match thoughts with actions.

Hm, maybe she was so lethargic because her nose was so—

Jillian gasped, head ramming into the wall behind her when she reflexively jerked back.  _Oh shit! His scent!_  His scent was in her nose! No wonder she felt so suddenly  _drugged!_ No, damn it!  _Damn it!_  This was bad! Jillian screamed mentally in frustration.  _Get away from him! Now!_ What the hell was  _with_ this man's scent that made her feel _so_ good, so  _drunk!_ It was like his scent was on steroids!

Giving her mind a vicious mental kick in the ass had her senses clearing, the glaze over her eyes vanishing to be replaced with burning irritation and the remnants of fear. Her eyes snapped up to meet narrowed watchful grey ones, lips instantly peeling back over sharp canines. He was too fucking close! Always too close! Did her stalker not understand the damnable concept of  _space?_  Jillian snarled at him and threw herself into a frenzy.

One did not corner or pin Sonneillon B. Jillian.

Law watched his wyvern twist and turn like a slippery fish in an attempt to free herself. He kept quiet, not saying a word as she struggled, rather he took the time to calm himself, calm the anger that rippled under his skin like a disease. It also gave him time to think. The incongruity of their position wasn't lost on Law, the oddity of it was obvious; Jillian wasn't human, nor was she weak, in fact, Law knew that her strength would be a serious problem in future settings.  _And_  her unknown fighting style. If he was able to immobilize her without straining on his part, well, something was definitely wrong.

Then again, the signs were all there right under his nose. The heavy breathing, the jerky bodily movements, the half-lidded glare and delayed reactions; Jillian was exhausted.

" _Why_  can't you just _leave me the hell **alone**_ **!** " Even her voice sounded sluggish and sleepy. The better for him.

Law sent Jillian a sardonic smirk, his eyes dancing mischievously, even as the glint behind them gleamed with fury. "Now, now," he crooned, dropping his voice an octave or two. Jillian swallowed thickly at hearing the husky timbre; when taking in their proximity it was easy to  _feel_  how his voice affected her. She was  _delightfully_ receptive to his verbal exclamations. "That's not a very nice thing to say to your  _savior_ , Miss Jillian."

She hisses at him, fangs bared in a feral smile of threat. "F-fuck you!"

Law's eyes darken, narrow, his smile twisting into something abominable.  _Evil_. Without much warning a tan hand comes up and fists in teal hair, forcing Jillian's head up, her body bowing forward in response. His sudden attack startles the Hellfire into whining at the new position but any struggle on her part is futile; Law only tightens his grip. Grey eyes glinting cruelly, Law stares his stubborn crewmate down.

Jillian can feel his gaze like that of a pulsing wound, intense and hard to ignore. She doesn't want to look at him, doesn't want to smell his addictive scent, or hear his smooth mocking voice. She wants to disappear, to hide under a rock and never have to be close to this arrogant pirate ever again. Of course, life doesn't give Jillian what she wants.

She is trapped like a rat in a corner. Swallowing, Jillian shrinks into the wall to get away. It is a pathetic move on her part but at the moment she is beyond caring. Law doesn't miss the attempt to block him out and reacts accordingly. Jillian  _would_  face him, just as she would face her inevitable future. So he moved closer, torso bending - because she is quite short - and rests his forehead against hers.

Jillian flinches at the contact, moaning in despair when her attempt is preemptively quelled by the tightening of his hand. Her scalp had always been sensitive and right now it was burning from Law's rough man-handling! Unbidden, pained blue-teal eyes grew bright with unshed tears, a quiet whimper whispering between the scant space between them.

"What you will come to realize _and accept_ , Jillian, is that you belong to me," Law whispers softly, lips skimming her own with every enunciation. " _My_  dragon,  _my_  subordinate,  _my_  woman,  _mine._ If anyone tries to keep me from you I will kill them, if  _you_  try to keep  _yourself_ from me then I will punish you. Anything that you are involved in is now _my_ business. Your health, your life, your secrets, your scars,  _all of it_ is  _my_ business. You, Sonneillon B. Jillian, are my Hellfire Wyvern. And as your captain I expect you to obey… _every_ …single…  _order_  I give you. Is that understood,  _my wyvern?_ "

Law drew his head back then so he could meet Jillian's eyes, see her expression. He immediately recognized the emotion she was attempting to desperately hide. Fear. She was afraid of him.

The Surgeon of Death allowed himself a moment to bask in her fear until something else caught his attention. It was very slight and he probably would've missed it had he not been so intent on staring into slits of blue-teal. Something in Jillian's gaze shifted, and from out of the shadows of her mask surfaced an emotion he could not place. Whatever it was swallowed the fear completely. The complete chaos of the emotion crashing and meshing in on itself nearly gave him a headache. It were distorted and turbulent, lighting up her kaleidoscope eyes, so delicately lined with long aqua lashes.

Law leaned closer, his cunning mind attempting to read and interpret the change, the jumble of emotion. The churning, seething mass of feeling abruptly stopped. Law's eyes narrowed, a sense of foreboding manifesting in his gut. Something cold slithered its way into her gaze and Law felt what could only be described as static electricity erupt over his skin. The Dark Doctor kept his eyes firmly locked with those of his dragon even when his hair stood on end.

Something… dead, inhuman,  _haunted_ , coalesced behind her eyes then, and he felt the strangest urge to step away from her. Like his sixth sense was warning him -  _danger, danger._  Slowly, eyes of complete teal connected with his; there was no blue in the iris.

"You…," her voice was low, empty, and so very cold - bitter, grave, "are a fool. If you get near me…," Lips tilted in a tiny, heartless smile, "you will lose  _everything_." Something hard and rigid slammed into Law's stomach throwing him back into the solid wall of the building behind him.

The decimated brick and stone groaned above him and crumbled, caving in on him heavily. He felt a sharp impact against his head and then his vision glazed over. _Fuck_ , Law cursed darkly. And he'd been  _so_  close.

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Skulley J. Liberty's heart beat rapidly in her chest. The dull roar of blood deafening in her ears as she ran through the groves. Oh, she could have flown but she was trying to catch and follow a scent she'd only smelled once. Flying would just be a distraction. Scenting was Jillian's field of expertise, after all. She, on the other hand, had to concentrate twice as hard.

She wasn't a master tracker like Jill. But she was good enough. She  _had_  to be.

Liberty had no clue how long she'd been running, nor did she care at the moment. All that blared through her hazed, panicked mind was  _gotta get there, gotta get there, gotta get there._ It was a welcome mantra that enabled her to ignore the pain in her stiff, aching muscles as well as the tiredness that dragged at her bones.

She  _could not_ stop. The Tri-horn hated running but in this situation Lib would make an exception.

Why was she running through Sabaody Archipelago?

 _The Strawhats._ She had to save them.

Lib felt her body screaming, searing at the abuse of her run but she was pushed forward by an unseen force several times stronger than pain. Something that had her sprinting through enemy territory, something that far outweighed agony or exhaustion.

The fear of loss.

_Repeated._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh God, chess is hard to write! Throw in Trafalgar Law and my head nearly died repeatedly while writing this!!! Mind games within mind games! 
> 
> Hope you guys like it! Anyone like possessive Law? I love possessive Law! He's scares the shit out of me! Hehe!
> 
> (1) - Kyosen: Lowest part of the sternum.
> 
> Tanchu: Middle of the sternum.
> 
> Murasame: front points of the throat on either side, just above the collar bone.
> 
> (2) - The Gifted form of Hell or Limbo.


	10. This Coffin Called Brink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return with another update! Yay! And I will say one thing about this chapter...IT KICKED MY ASS! There is one particular scene involving our favorite red-haired psychopath that would not shut up and write itself! Argh! But I have prevailed! Take that Kid! Nah! Anyway, you guys better enjoy my blood, sweat, and sorry forehead; I banged it on my desk enough while writing this to give me several brain hemorrhages.

 

 

_"What if I just tried not to_

_remember? Would it matter_

_at all? Still stuck inside this_

_sorrow. All the chances that_

_have passed me by, would it_

_matter if I gave it one more_

_try? Would it matter at all?_

**Would it matter by Skillet**

_Wherever it was, it was cold. Frigidly so._

_Walls of black stone towered over sharp, jagged cliffs which resembled the gaping maw of some hideous beast. The foreboding barrier guarded a looming citadel made of the same material. A putrid mixture of soot, ash, and water rained down over the colossal structure that stood like a gargoyle in the torrent of filth. This was a place of ugliness, rot, and_ _**decay. Death.** _

_The citadel itself was no more better looking than the cliffs below; both held the same distorted angles and dark gloominess of the other. The suffocating atmosphere lingered like a poisonous cloud over the twisted spirals of the upper levels, and gave the sense of unrelenting unapproachability. The building itself was an impenetrable fortress though not from its many grotesque defenses but from its_ _**location.** _

_And all but two existed within this monster of stone and shadow._

_The upper corridors of the architectural behemoth, as commanded, lay empty and silent around him. Just as he liked it. Silence and solitude were welcome companions when he desired time for thoughtful contemplation. On the lower levels and barracks, movement no doubt continued much as it always had, but when he felt the urge to walk his corridors unnoted and alone his servants and slaves found innumerable reasons to occupy themselves elsewhere. Not that they had any choice in the matter._

_Their wills, their very_ _**souls** _ _were_ _**his** _ _to command._

_Yet, on this night of foul tempest he walked with a destination in mind. A purpose._

_He paused then, sleek form of shadow and silk standing in front of an alcove where a large oak door loomed. There was a flickering light seen escaping the confines of the room beyond from under the door. A fire._

_The door opened and he sauntered in. His right hand sat slouched on a settee face turned toward the roaring fireplace. Without a greeting he took his seat, stretching long powerful legs out, and turned to watch the fire also. A curious thing fire was, he thought shortly._

_Idly, a hand, bone-white pale, reached to the side and clasped a wine glass. It was already full and cool to the touch, even more so when he came into contact with the fragile glass of the cup._

_"Everything is going according to plan. All the humans are in position, like pathetic flies they are._ _**Ha!** _ _I almost pity the poor weaklings. Poor little humans, poor little_ _**pawns** _ _. But I do so love playing with them. Heh, if only they lasted longer than I could have some_ _**real** _ _fun." simpered the right hand around a demented grin._

_"And what of my Jineiia and Sklestia?" He asked after a slow slip of wine._

_The right hand waved a hand at his expectant companion and scoffed. "Haven't seen them at all. They went up like smoke, they're off my radar. I think they're either getting smart or…they're planning something."_

_Slit eyes narrowed as they stared into red flame. "I would not expect nothing less from them. They are magnificent." The last word dripped with untold longing and possession._

… _ **An unbearable thirst.**_

 _The right hand suddenly shifted, broad form tensing slightly. "You've been teasing me with this for a long time. How do you know it will flush them out? Huh, cause the way_ _**I** _ _see it there'll be a lot of humans and_ _**they** _ _don't care for them. How do you know they'll show up at all?"_

 _A calculating smile touched soft lips and slit eyes gleamed with the thrill of the hunt. "They will show for their own brethren, make no mistake. They won't…be able…to_ _**resist** _ _."_

_"Resist…? Oh, you bloody fucking scoundrel! Wait, how the hell are you going to get him there?"_

_Lips quirked cruelly. "Do not ask me stupid questions."_

_The right hand rolled his eyes at the arrogance, though it was well deserved. "Whatever. How's the search going?"_

_Slit eyes flickered and the surrounding atmosphere grew icy. A low, displeased voice, "She has hid it well." The second-in-command did not bring it up again._

_Silence. The crackling of wood and fire._

…

_"And the second plan?"_

_A contemplating frown touched pale lips._

_Then he smiled, fangs bared, and cold dead purple eyes lit up with terrifying ambition._

_"We need a catalyst."_

_¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸_

She was pathetic. Completely, absolutely  _pathetic_. After all that running - so much running - she'd been too late, too terrified, too  _weak_  to do anything.  _Nothing!_ And for _what?_ A stupid memory? A past she swore would never grace her mind **ever** again. A past that would stay locked away in its blood soaked closet. And yet at the first bit of remembrance she'd crumbled like clay beneath ones finger. Like a startled deer she'd frozen under the shock, under the horror of watching them  _disappear._

And now they were gone.

… _The Strawhats._

Gone with the swipe of a paw.

Just like that.

 _Dead. Dead, dead, dead,_ _**dead!** _

And she hadn't lifted a finger to save them.  _Worthless!_ It echoed in her mind, lingered like cobwebs and shadows. Whisper, repeat, whisper, repeat…on and on and on. But she deserved the desolation that gripped her and the pain that speared her breast at hearing that one  _damning_  word. Dead. The Strawhats  _were dead_. Despair overwhelmed her and she fell back against the tree whose bark had caught her thrown body not five hours earlier. Liberty clenched her hands until they went white around the knuckles.

The despair heightened when her gaze settled on the blood speckled ground where Luffy, one-of-a-kind Strawhat Luffy, had collapsed after seeing his crew…

Lib's chest constricted painfully. And not just because she was horrified beyond her centuries at what she'd witnessed but because she could relate; Skulley J. Liberty knew  _exactly_  what Luffy had felt in that moment of all-consuming devastation. In that moment when realization hits and the ache of loss cements itself beneath your ribcage.

Liberty knew that feeling, knew that ache all too well. Humans were wrong, they were too naïve when it came to the realm of emotion. Time would never heal the pain, the sheer anguish of loss. It might lessen the ache that festered within the chest but it would never go away. And now she would have to carry a new ache beside the old.

It was her fault.

A soft sob escaped. The sting of tears followed not a minute later. She'd been fighting it for the past five hours but even Lib couldn't hold off emotional pain forever. She didn't have the heart to, nor the motivation to. Rather Lib felt empty yet not. She felt that coil of agony twisting in her chest, the cold despair in her stomach, and frigid regret in her mind.

One of the worst things people don't realize in the aftermath of something truly horrifying is the recollection. The strained mind can't help but to replay the events even if they were mentally scarring. And for Liberty…

Screaming. Terrified, desperate screaming.

She could not stop the flinch that shook her body, or the swell of despondency that curled around her heart. Lib closed her eyes tightly, throwing her head side to side in a desperate attempt to quell the screaming.

 _Please…no more. I am sorry. I am so very sorry_. She brought her hands to her face and quietly sobbed. She no longer cared for the tears that dripped from her face.

_¨°º¤ø„¸ Flashback¸„ø¤º°¨_

_She ran under the boughs of the mangroves without thought or conscious. The façade of humanity had bowed before that ancient primal essence found within every dragon; instinct. It thrummed inside of her like a live thing and she accepted its intrinsic guidance whole-heartedly. Liberty needed speed in this mad run of desperation. In this time of hourglasses and limitations she could afford nothing that would slow her down._

_She could not_ _**fail.** _ _She could not let it happen_ _**again.** _

_The ground muddied her bare feet as she sprinted over it, and it was cold, frigid even, but where the biting wind reached in to chill her skin a flicker of steam rose up to meet it, flushing her nerves with molten heat_ _**.** _ _Not even the icy air nor the cold, hard ground could stop her from following_ _**that scent.** _

_The scent of meat._

… _Luffy. The Strawhats._

_Liberty tracked that scent with a sort of relentless frenzy that betrayed her absolute terror. And she did feel terror, it burned beneath her breast with horrifying intensity. It caused her insurmountable pain - familiar pain - but the motivation, the sheer reckless drive it granted only pushed her forward. Faster, faster, faster._

_Liberty chanted those words like a pray as she threw herself after that elusive scent. A scent that heightened her terror with every step_ … _because it smelled sour, smelled fearful and desperate and anguished. Every time she inhaled it would be there clogging her nostrils and pricking the lock to her closet. Her blood soaked closet._

_But the lurking monster in her memories only meshed with the prowling terror of her situation. The two rolled together in her strained mind, became one, and latched onto her sanity. The dense ball of mental torment fueled her adrenaline, made her run faster._

_Yet, for all the emotions and their effect she felt_ … _slow. It was as if she were moving through tar where there was only air, but it was air that fought her, pressed against her, and pushed her away from her goal._

_Despite this frustrating obstacle Liberty continued onward. Over flat ground, over rocks, bridges, through hidden caves, under roots, and ponds; nothing stood in her way._

_Because it wasn't just a rescue mission. It had_ _**never** _ _been a rescue mission._

 _The only difference_ … _? She was alone and there would be_ _ **no**_ _savior this time for her. No one would be there to catch her if she fell. If she_ _ **failed.**_

_Liberty had no understanding of time - her run was seemingly perpetual, unending. But her body, her human shell, trembled and shook with the pace of her movement. The misery of such strain dragged and bit and burned at her limbs. She would hiss at the inevitable pain as a muscle ripped and tore. She howled and cursed when pain turned to agony, nerves screaming and searing at the abuse._

_But she never stopped. No, she never stopped because memory, and that pulsing familiar ache in her ribcage pulled her forward. Drove her instinctively toward a tragedy. A tragedy she would avert._

_Halfway across the span of a grassy meadow, she fell, skidding on her knees and then forward onto her hands. The hot sting that came with skin bursting open against gravel was just another pain on the pile of anguish. Just another obstacle to overcome._

_She could not fail._

_But as she fell and hit the ground, never, never did she stop moving. It was with a whiff at the air that she loosed herself like a fleeing arrow, away into the surrounding groves, away and after that scent._

_Faster than was possible, faster than any human could move, she moved, because the mangroves weren't just silent anymore. No, her sharp ears could hear them. And it was just another agony spearing her heart, opening that blood soaked closet._

_Screaming, there was_ _**screaming.** _

_Liberty felt the rising of a tide in her innermost self, beyond her skin, deeper than her body. A sort of frozen stillness. The screaming was opening something, pushing her to an edge that her defenses could not contain. The past was surfacing, welling like blood from a fresh wound. It had her mentality shrinking in on itself, terrified._

_She was hurling herself forcefully through the underbrush now. The mantra of please, please, please was deafening in her ears. But something pierced the din of her inner chanting, freezing her heart, her veins, and her sanity._

_Even in the thrall of her own instincts, Liberty's eyes shot sideways, stared past rocks and giant tree trunks. She knew that voice - it was - it was -_

( _ROBIN!)_

_It was Luffy._

_Oh God, he was in pain. He was suffering. His scent was drenched with it._

_Her body gave an involuntary twitch in response to what she heard, and smelled. Then she entered the clearing - entered chaos_ … _and froze. The huge glade was empty, horribly empty except for three people._

 _Liberty stood on a knoll between two mangroves and stared, feeling everything and nothing. Emotion brimmed through her pores, dripped from her eyes, fell from her lips, urged her forward. But she didn't move. She was immobilized by the sight before her, the horror of_ …

_Three becoming two._

**(** _**ROBIN!)** _

_Luffy's desolation was hers. Yet, her sense of loss - of_ _**his** _ _loss - was still deeper. It was familiar. Oh so familiar. But it was all wrong, completely wrong to see Luffy, fun and energetic Strawhat Luffy, on his knees in tears. Tears of excruciating shock and pain. Tears of unspeakable sadness. Tears of loss._

_He'd lost his crew. His family, his friends. Just like her._

_It was wrong. Liberty's jaw clenched, wide eyes paling in the face of Luffy's breakdown. She couldn't describe the utter anguish that consumed her in waves of mind-numbing horror. She could not name the frigid shaking of her body as she watched, motionless and in shock, as Luffy wailed and thrashed on the ground. Bile, sour and burning rose in her throat at the sight._

_His fists were bloodstained, his forehead even more so. He was screaming_ …

 _Oh Spirits, he was screaming! Brown-teal eyes widened further; the blood soaked closet was creaking open, memories of_ _**that** _ _night creeping forward._

_Then she was the one screaming when they lunged for her._

(... _You're exhausted_...

_She wasn't._

_She couldn't be._

... _They're dead_...

_No. No._

... _Stop it_... _They're gone_... _They're gone_...

 _They were_ _**not** _ _gone!_

_Lies!_

_Blood didn't lie._

_They weren't!_

_Her chest ached. Her heart was throbbing again. But she pushed on. She plowed on._

_She wasn't going to break._

... _there's nothing you can do_...

_She went on._

_Like a crazed woman, she pushed and pushed, willing the energy inward. Willing some small, miraculous heartbeat. Even when it was long gone. Even when everything was already too cold, too empty. Too still. Not even a whisper of synergy. None._

_Too dead._

_She sobbed hopelessly. The burn in her chest causing her to retch and gag._

_She pushed and pushed. More energy, more life into lifeless bodies. Three in number._

_She pushed and pushed._

_Stared into lifeless blue eyes._

_And tried very hard not to break.)_

_Agonized eyes of teal and brown rose, glassy and pained - so much pain - and met those of another; a kindred spirit. Luffy stared at her, tears still streaming down his bruised face. His tortured expression mirrored his gaze. They were united in their suffering._

_But only Liberty had felt the unbearable hollowness before. And it showed in her features; the sallow planes of her face, the dull haunted look in her eyes, and the strained expression foretold of a past better left forgotten._

_If only it would_ _**stay** _ _forgotten._

_Suddenly the ground shook ever so slightly. Liberty felt it as she was sensitive to such things and looked up. Terror seized her, choked her, made her scramble and scream._

_Bartholomew Kuma. The real one. Oh Spirits!_

_No. No! NO! Not him. Not Luffy!_

_He was going for Luffy! He was going to_ … _!_

 _"NO!" She screamed it, threw it at the warlord with vicious desperation. Her limbs staggered in an effort to propel her forward. With a snarl she changed, claws digging into the soil, tail catapulting her form like a bullet. A bullet right at Bartholomew Kuma. She would_ _**kill him!** _

_"YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!" She roared, fangs bared with feral hatred. She_ _**hated** _ _this man, this warlord, this taker of lives. Of happiness._

_But desperation made her senseless, and sloppy. Or maybe it was the tears obscuring her vision that threw off her aim._

_Bartholomew Kuma smacked her right into a tree._

_Everything became grey and white at that point. The pain - emotional and crippling - that had been held back by adrenaline and rage returned in full force, making her cry out._

_She slid down the rough bark with a groan, body slumping bonelessly to the ground. Through hazed over eyes Lib watched, helpless and losing consciousness, as Luffy's life was stolen away with the mere swipe of a paw._

_Gone._

_Just like that._

_Liberty's throat contracted painfully and her insides suddenly felt so dreadfully hollow. Icy and hollow at her failure. Again._

_She sobbed as the darkness took her._

_¨°º¤ø„¸ End of flashback¸„ø¤º°¨_

Bartholomew Kuma stood silently in the clearing; his eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, stared down at the Wyvern Sister with something akin to regret. He did regret his actions but it was necessary for the survival of Monkey D. Dragon's son. They would have never lived through a confrontation with Kizaru. The Strawhats were strong, their captain was one of the Eleven Supernova but they were still rookies.

Still wet behind the ears.

Kizaru would've slaughtered them.

And so he'd been called to rectify the situation.

Bible held snugly in one hand the Warlord of the Sea turned and walked away.

Quiet, pained words, " _I am sorry_."

¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨ °º¤ø„¸

Everything was swathed in obsidian darkness; an endless black abyss that swallowed any and all forms of light. The plane of nothingness convulsed and fragmented in on itself without warning. Shards of murky white pierced through the veil causing the dark chasm to tremble at its edges before it crumbled completely. The haze of slumber slowly conceded to the burgeoning light of renewed consciousness.

Awareness struggled to reclaim its sovereignty over sense and body, beating back the darkness of sleep and nightmares with an instinctual panic. Skulley J. Liberty regained cognizance sluggishly, though she was still very much asleep. The senses of a Gifted had two settings: waking sense which garnered immediate response and slumbering sense where information was stored during sleep to be processed later.

Oh, if only she were human. Liberty could've woken without horror, pain, and _regret_. Sharp,  _sharp_ regret. Her body, namely her back ached and throbbed for reasons she was running from unconsciously. This refusal to face reality had the glaze of slumber and darkness creeping back. It was because Lib's mind was in that cloudy, discombobulated state that the pain pulsing against her skin took longer to register on her synapses. But reality would not be denied.

External stimulus, within minutes of Lib drifting off, drained the ink away and penetrated the gulf of the Tri-horn's mind. And this time there was no escape, no place Liberty could hide in the deeper recesses of her psyche.

It was not a graceful awakening.

Upon opening eyes of teal and brown said Gifted squinted at her surroundings…promptly clutched her stomach, retched, and screamed into the silence around her. It was only once but Lib honestly thought her vocal cords would bleed by the end of it. The scream tapered off into ragged, gasping sobs.

Skulley J. Liberty curled into a ball, buried her face into her knees and wept. The mantra of  _failure, failure, failure_  ringing loudly, tortuously though her mind.

 _I am a_ _**failure!** _

The vice around her heart twisted and tightened at the mental cry. Lib did not deny it, didn't even try. It was true, so true in fact that she felt it like brand upon her skin. A tattoo of disgrace that would  _never_  leave her. And now,  _now_  that brand seethed deeper into her skin, searing away at her flesh, at her sanity for her second atrocity. Her second failure.

Thoughts, doubts, regrets, and  _whys_ assaulted her in her state of vulnerability.  _Especially_  the whys. Oh, the whys were evil little whispers which invoked helpless hope and hopeless self-hatred.

… _Why didn't I save him…?_

… _Why did I freeze…?_

… _Why didn't I fight harder…?_

… _Why did I lose myself to my past…?_

_Why! Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy!_

_**Why!** _

Tears burned in Lib's eyes, her throat constricting and for a moment, an  _instant_ she couldn't handle the pain. It was too much, too fast, too all-consuming. The raw, bleeding, shredded hole her past had managed to punch through her chest into her very soul smoldered with every intake of breath. The agony was like a live thing wiggling, squirming, and writhing; it sent her stomach flipping sickeningly. Violent nausea had her vision reeling and blurring horribly.

Liberty would've hurled her guts had there been anything in there to begin with. But that didn't stop her from dry heaving. Her throat contracted, clenching brutally, until she felt like one more breath might snap her spine and send her body into death throes.

In some small selfish part of Lib's mind she wished it would. This pain…she couldn't stand this pain! Yet, she deserved it. She failed and now…- Spirits, she couldn't…

Eyes closing Lib shook her head furiously; she wouldn't say it, she  _couldn't._ Because it would make it _real._ And Skulley J. Liberty didn't like reality. Reality was cruel, it took away without mercy, and left you with pieces of yourself missing.

She'd lost so much and here it was stealing more from her.

_He stole something from me._

That hollow hole of icy loss panged agonizingly around the edges; it was a gaping wound where her heart used to be.

_He stole something from me._

Pain, unadulterated and overwhelming, froze her, stunned her, pierced her with hot knives. Her mind swirled with horrifying notions and Liberty was unprepared for the merciless retaliation to her denial. A mixture of fear and shock and horror kept the screams from forming but not the thoughts. Not the thoughts. Those breached her sanity relentlessly, unbidden and unwanted and so very excruciating that they scored Lib's soul and disrupted her synergy.

Her precious synergy was wrought with chaos and agony. Her essence in complete disarray and she was paying for it both in mind and body. A dragon was a creäture of balance and harmony. If they lost that equilibrium…

Well, excruciating didn't even cover it.

And her thoughts weren't helping. No, at the moment they were the purest form of evil to Lib. Because—

 _Luffy was dead and she'd done nothing, absolutely_ _**nothing** _ _to save him!_

Oh yes, her thoughts were evil. Evil for making her face reality, for making it  _real. Failure, failure, failure._

She was a failure. She couldn't protect anything.

Liberty choked on a sob, eyes closing fruitlessly; there was no blocking out the pain, the hollow in her chest. It had been there for centuries and it would stay there for later centuries. A silent, painful reminder for her folly. Her failure.

Whimpering at her thoughts Lib shrank in on herself. She did her best to endure through the misery, the pain of desolation and disruption. The Tri-horn, safe to say, sat there for hours in cold shock, ruthless agony, and brittle perseverance. And even though she sat, face dripping with tears of shame, and self-hatred hot in her breast, never, never did she give in to the lonely pits of oblivion. Never did she succumb to the emotions of tragedy.

Because the blade of reality had already struck her.

_He stole something from me._

Had already thrust her into Verdaron.

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By the time Liberty left the clearing black ink had already stained the blue canvas of the sky. There was no moon, therefore the darkness clung to everything like dust in a village. The grove she walked through was dank, dirty, and smelled of refuse, filth, and sweat. She was numb, too numb to care for the scents burning her sensitive nostrils. The pain born of her senses was insurmountable against the eerie hollowness in her chest. The grief that had stolen her mind mere hours before had now dwindled into a gulf of torpid feeling.

Her mind was blank, her heart silent, and only instinct pushed her body forward. To what destination was lost in the void that was Skulley J. Liberty. As night came to reign, and light stole away to another realm until dawn, the dark side of Sabaody Archipelago crawled from its sick cage. This grove she had wandered into did not share the extravagant architecture, pompous atmosphere, or excited happiness that covered the isle like a thick duvet. It was the underbelly, the underground where all the rot filtered down into.

Poverty ruled where Celestial Dragons dare not tread.

The lonely beggars who dogged the streets by day had recoiled back to the shadows to count their coin, and muggers and whores took their place, taking posts near the taverns and alleys. Waiting. Always waiting for the next victim, the next client. Like wolves stalking a wounded fawn.

Lib saw this as she walked the streets, too-large clock hiding what not must be seen.  _I am not one you,_ she thought numbly,  _nor am I prey. I am something that stands apart from the world of mortality. Something untouched by human bloodshed and tears._

The thought bled into her subconscious, a quiet plea to her rationale. It might have been a bid to reason away the numbness dragging her down, stealing away her façade of normality and replacing it with something no living being should witness.

… _Reality…_

Now…now she sauntered - a stranger - through this place of squalor and misery, like a ghost, touching nothing, seeing all. And in such a listless state she did see all; had Liberty been her usual self her reaction would've been a lot more vocal and a lot more expressive. It was a parallel really Lib realized upon turning into an alley. Was this how Jillian felt day in and day out? This unfathomable emptiness, a literal void in the depths of dragonic emotion. Liberty would have been horrified at herself for such lack of feeling, yet she continued through the alley with nothing but a small frown and bloodshot eyes.

She passed those who stood on street corners, shivering in the cold as they sought to bare enough flesh to wrangle anyone looking for a few minutes of release. They were all young, spirits broken and hopeless desolation etched into their very skin. Soulless husks, shells with nothing left but beaten down fragments of what used to be pretty willful human beings.

 _And still men pay for them,_ hissed Lib mentally, disgust and pain laced through the thought, a bit of her usual self showing. But the answer to the silent  _why_  to her statement was obvious.

…Because humans were  _cruel._  Because in the end whoring was not about pleasure but about feminine degradation, the pleasure not so much a thing of the flesh but of power; the knowledge that your coin can buy a woman, can render her at your mercy for however long. It was a heartless, vicious cycle. One that Lib knew all too well from her centuries of existence and her decades of living close to mankind. The men of humanity were beasts, more so than her in her true form.

At least,  _she_  wasn't cruel in her true form. Emotions like anger, fury, and hatred were feelings she left to Jill. They just didn't sit well with her; she would rather feel happy, feel something light and fluffy than something that weighed like tar and was just as black. Liberty  _liked_  happiness, _liked_ joviality, and contentment.

She passed a few taverns, her nose a bundle of abused nerves from all the stale sweat, rank ale, reeking foulness that pervaded over such establishments. It nearly made her gag and retch more than once. The utter disgust that washed through her like waves upon a shore brought forth a restlessness inside her that she had no name for, something that evolved from sheer aversion and repugnance.

Actually witnessing the dredge of society, the moral destruction of mankind, the base instincts of monsters for which trapped girls had no escape was  _heartbreaking_. This world of teary-eyed women and hungry lustful men had real emotion pulsing through the empty haze of Liberty's mind. This horrible world she'd walked into was her awakening from numb thoughtless wandering.

There was silent anger at the injustice of it all, horror at the reality of it, and sadness, _terrible sadness_ , at the hopelessness of so many lives ruined. So much purity tainted and innocence stolen. Such an atrocity would get any dragon sent to Verdaron  _ **immediately**_ **.**

This was her reverie when the sound of a door to a tavern suddenly banged open and a group of men staggered out into the muddy street. Their smell was  _horrific_ on so many levels; it had nausea attacking her senses before she ever saw them. The wave of drunken breath laden with stale beer preceded them in a powerful gust, and for a moment it was all she could do not to vomit. Lib grimaced sickly and pivoted on her heel intent on getting as far away from the place as possi—

—but a hand fell on her cloaked shoulder and forcibly whirled her around, yanking her cloak and shirt open at the same time. The sound of ripping fabric rang shrilly in Lib's ears as her garment tore open down her chest, baring the inner curve of a breast. Baring  _too_  much.

" _See!_ " shouted the man who had grabbed her, hands gesturing to those watching. The drunken idiot was a burly, robust man who faintly smelled of urine and shit; Lib chose to think no more on his origins fearing for the contents of her stomach. "I toldja 'he was a girl!"

That silent anger coiled like a snake in Liberty's gut. Dangerous, very dangerous. It seethed and spat and hissed; instinct steadily raising to the threat. No one, not even Lib herself, was aware of slit eyes brightening over with teal, a flicker of something else present. Something green, a streak of color. Though it was gone before anyone could look for it had they known of its existence.

These men did not have a clue what manner of fire they were playing with. It wasn't… _mortal_.

Eyes alight with turquoise, the glint in them smoldered with something deeper than rage; Liberty was approaching the precipice. Slowly…inching…forward. With novel self-control the Tri-horn pulled the pieces of her attire back to her. As luck would have it some of the men gasped upon finally noticing the strange display of color. Glowing color. As drunk as they were some heeded the natural instinct telling them to  _back off._ Yet, the majority were far too intoxicated to recognize the sight for what it was. Or for who it was.

The only thing that spared the sow fuckers was the small rational part of Lib's brain. It was ever adamant in the ways of self-preservation and any retaliation would bring attention to her presence and right now Lib did not want to deal with _anyone._ With a scoff befitting Jillian the Tri-horn turned on her heel to leave but a meaty fist pulled her back, this time nearly ripping her off her feet.

… _Oh hell no!_

If you were smart you did not  _shove_  Skulley J. Liberty.  _Three strikes your out, asshole!_

Out, indeed.

"What's the matter, whore? Our company not good enough for you? Eh, we can definitely  _make_  it good enough!" One of the older rats sniggered through blackened teeth, pale eyes glittering sickly. They were starting to surround her now, some deliberately, some just following blindly because they were too drunk to do anything else. Something trembled inside, snapped, grew heated, and _melted._ The sensation had Lib stiffening. It suffused her veins, her body, and caused a curious fluctuation deep within her synergy. Her soul.

Something…something was _there._

A filthy hand suddenly caught her around the chin; she smacked it away sharply with a hiss.  _Don't you fucking touch me!_ The message was clear and everyone understood the warning. Though understanding and accepting were too entirely different concepts; none of the men accepted the warning. Oh no, they were picking up speed with their new  _conquest._

"C'mon you little slut! Why don't you bend that sweet ass and put on a lil show for us?" Another fluctuation. This time there was the slightest shifting from within; the Mind Flow was warping…blistering…

One of the men grew impatient and grabbed her from behind. He jerked Lib back hard, intending to pull her flush against him. Liberty had seen the move many times over the centuries, it was vulgar and plain  _pissed her off!_ Just as she was about to snatch one of her bone needles for some payback another pig grabbed her arm. She wrenched herself free with a snarl, however another reached for the collar of her shirt, his wolfish grin reeking of putrid beef and ale. The abrupt onslaught of grasping scoundrels shocked Lib's strained desolate mind.

 _Too many. Too many, too fast! Too many hands, too many directions! Who am I supposed to attack, kill, or maim! Too many!_ The mental cry was desperate and hysterical. Lib was at the end of her rope. Her poisoned needles only worked as fast as she could throw, jab, and stab them! Even as she drove back one molester another fucking one would take his place, all part of a tidal wave of disgusting, leering male flesh that threatened to overwhelm—

And then, without warning, the Synergy exploded outward, power surged up inside her, raging with such force that it left her breathless. It was an uncontrollable fire that roared through her deepest most private of energies. Fear, despair, defiance, and hatred seared her soul as it burst through her pores like lava out of a volcano. She screamed with the fury of it; hot magma rage, centuries in the making, centuries of slumber finally  _triggered._

Liberty visibly shook as it swept through her, it was more powerful than anything she had ever felt before, and she could not control it. Could not control the unbearable fiery rage that drowned her, cradled her, eclipsed her until there was nothing but primal dragonic feeling. The force of it blinded her, turning everything in her sight a bright red - blood-red - and as the hot dizzying emotion blazed through her veins she thought she could feel the presence of a distant heartbeat that was driving it.

Then it subsided, after what felt like an eternity of burning, the roaring wildfires of synergistic power cooled and vanished. That strange trembling deep within her soul quelled, the heat centered in her chest dispersed and she found herself able to breathe again. Blinking somewhat lethargically, Liberty swallowed and waited for the veil of redness to wash away from her vision. Her attention refused to focus on anything for the first twenty seconds but it came back steadily. Blinking again, Lib wondered if the strange power surge -  _whatever the hell it was!_ \- had actually done something, or simply been the dragonic equivalent of a scream of rage.

_What the hell just happened!?_

Silence. Eerie silence.

The street was quiet, hushed of any noise. It was as if something had spooked sound into fleeing…

Liberty was either too out of it to be disturbed or she was distracted. It was the latter; the men weren't standing around her like hungry vultures.  _Where'd those scumbuckets go?_ Licking her lips because they were suddenly too dry for her liking Liberty shook her head to clear it of any lingering fuzz, struggling to regain sense and vision. She froze.

Too bright eyes widened. This smell…

_Burning flesh._

The scent of charred flesh hung thick in the air, it would've been revolting had Lib  _not_ been a Gifted. But the intensity of the scent was disconcerting. She looked down…and gasped. There were  _things_ on the ground. Smoldering, sizzling like the dying embers of a fire. They were man-sized. What the  _hell_  was going on!? What were these things, these piles of flesh so twisted they were  _unrecognizable._

… _Unrecognizable._

The realization hit without pause or mercy.  _Shit, fuck, fire! I…I did this? But I'm not a volcanic breed! I_ _ **can't do**_ _this!_ Emotion welled up inside Liberty then, it curled around her throat and clenched tightly. It could've been shock, horror, fear, revenge, or happiness; Lib honestly couldn't tell.

Bodies. Disturbingly distorted bodies. Crushed bodies. Parts of bodies melted like hot iron. Bodies like grotesque liquefied dolls that someone had thrown into an oven. One man - one of the more recognizable culprits - was frozen in the act of screaming; his face was charred black with half of it resembling a watery canvas. Another lay twisted in ways no mortal body should ever be twisted-…his bones were still steaming. If one looked close enough they could see remnants of his flesh dripping from his scorched skeletal system. Bone, cartilage, organs, tissues; all of it was either melted in some way or smashed beyond recognition.

Skulley J. Liberty wasn't a violent dragon. She didn't  _think_ herself one either. Though when the time came to defend herself and those precious to her violence was welcomed. Of course, she'd poison, dismember, and torch those who dared threaten her or her friends but this…this was  _not her!_

This was a  _massacre_. Heartless, unfeeling, and without mercy. She wasn't  _ **any**_ of those! This was… _Oh spirits! I…I'm_ _ **not**_ _heartless! I'm not!_

With a cry of hysteria Lib bolted. She had to get away!  _She had to!_  Intolerable horror and sickness welled up inside of her and she staggered under the force of it, staggered away from the carnage, not caring where she went as long as it was far away from that terrible place. All the mind-numbing rage and magma fury was gone from her veins, gone from her soul, replaced by an icy shock.  _What have I done? What did I do?_

She could hardly think straight, could hardly even  _remember_ what had happened. There were men, perverted scum, who'd gotten a little too bold in their actions and then she'd felt anger and desperation and then…there was nothing.

There was a literal  _blank spot_ in her memory. Those who were Gifted didn't simply  _forget_  things. That fact had her more scared than anything.

But right now she needed to get away; this time she could not be distracted by fear.  _She had to get away!_ Getting away from those bodies was all that mattered to her at the moment. Getting to a place where the air didn't smell like burnt flesh, the ground wasn't littered by puddles of syrupy body parts, and where walls and dirt weren't splattered with blood and entrails.

Finally, exhausted both mentally and emotionally, Liberty stopped running. Her legs were trembling and her body all around felt sore, far more sore than it should actually. Feeling vulnerable and exposed was not a good sensation. Hence, Liberty searching for someplace to rest and maybe get a bit of sanity back. Maybe.

 _Thank the Spirits it was night!_  Else she would've had the problem of anonymity on her hands. At least, this deep in the lawless grove there were no marines skulking about nor many people for that matter. It was a small miracle to Liberty. Even more of a miracle were the shops that were still open whereas in other groves markets promptly closed upon sunset.

Liberty thanked the Spirits for giving her a saving grace. A bookstore. She rushed to the scent of old leather, parchment, and ink. It smelled like _sanity._

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Kid could remember the few instances where he'd been shocked or surprised by something that had taken him off guard. He could count them on two hands because, well, sailing the Grand Line wasn't some mundane journey, however,  _never_ had he been struck with an emotion for which he had no name. The presence that had appeared, taken his senses captive, had ripped him from his composure before he was even conscious of what he was seeing. How funny it was to find what he so coveted when he was not seeking it in the first place.

Eustass "Captain" Kid had only been walking off the headache that had blown in from the idiosyncrasies of his crew. Namely, the feats of two moronic brothers. Oh, they were lucky Kid was smart enough to know losing their expertise so far in the game was dangerous; they would've been dead if it had been different. So to cool off the fires of his temper he'd left to go skulk the night, red eyes scouring the dark streets for any poor soul stupid enough to be out. It was with no small amount of surprise that Kid stalked right into something that frankly stopped him dead in his tracks.

And  _very_  few things could stop  _him_ , a Supernova, promptly. At first glimpse he'd immediately sought to retrieve what he perceived to be his; Skulley J. Liberty. More than one headache had been the cause of her continued freedom. So he'd been prepared to rectify the problem with her capture whether she struggled against him or not. And with the knowledge spun from a single needle Kid was certain he could evade any in the near future. He would not have his pride trampled on by being taken down by some  _fucking poison_ a second time.  _Fuck no!_

The captain had sneered and snarled at the fact that he'd been defeated so easily, discarded and dismissed so carelessly; yet, he wasn't so arrogant to not learn from his mistakes. He wasn't so arrogant to not admit - in the quiet of his own mind - that his last encounter with the Gifted had ended by the means of his own making. He'd been cocky and drunk off the power that would soon be under his command. A legendary creature, a myth telling of mystery and power, under _his_ command. Just the thought sent him into thralls of possessive excitement. Which had been his first mistake and it had cost him dearly. But no longer would he let his own arrogance lead his actions.

If he allowed any sort of cockiness into his planning then he would lose the hunt and he'd lose the prey. And that just wasn't acceptable in Kid's mind. He'd told Liberty in no uncertain terms that she would join him and join him she would. Fuck anything that got in his way. Whereas his earlier self would've lunged for the dragon without pause, now…now he waited and watched. Kid wasn't a patient man but when it was most needed, when it would benefit him, he could sit back with the best of them.

Then he felt  _it._ He couldn't describe the catharsis but he knew it came from Liberty. There was no doubt in Kid's mind about that. He'd been walking through an alley some feet behind the dragon when the mouth had come up in his sights along with a brawl. At its center had been the Gifted fighting with a primal fury that was so at odds with her human shell. It surpassed the realms that governed animals; this anger that clung to Liberty was deeper, based in something that was far older than the animal kingdom. Whatever he was witnessing weaved a veil over his senses, spellbound him to a point where the scene triggered nothing but vigilance.

Eustass "Captain" Kid should've been furious, enraged, and halfway  _mad_ with anger at the sight; those who dared fuck with his crew didn't live long when he hunted them down like weakling scum. That's when he sensed the temperature, the shift in his surroundings, and whatever spell had calmed his temper dissipated like morning mist. His anger rose with the strange heat in the air which ultimately changed said anger into steadily growing curiosity. Where the _hell_ was the heat coming from? Sharp red eyes surveyed the street for possible causes; the results had shocked him.  _How the_ _ **fucking hell**_ _had he not noticed!_

The street, when he looked abroad, was… _warping._ It reminded Kid of the mirages in the desert islands he had come across. An optical illusion resulting from the distortion of light by alternate layers of hot and cold air. But where was the hot air coming from. Mirages like these were only prevalent in deserts. Sabaody Archipelago wasn't a desert island.  _What the fuck!_

Even more shocking was the state of everything on the street. The wooden structures of shops were groaning and buckling; Kid instantly smelled the tinge of smoldering wood.  _The hell?_ Windows were showing hairline fractures in their frames, jagged cracks that were starting to liquefy around the edges.

All at once Kid realized the glass was  _melting._ Melting! Metal hinges, support beams, clasps, lanterns, light-posts, fences, planter boxes, mail boxes; anything that was metal hummed with the absorption of extreme heat. Yet, the pathetic men targeting his dragon remained unaffected by this strange phenomenon. Surprisingly, he stood unharmed, though, the air was thick and cloying, therefore breathing was uncomfortable at best.

Then that indecipherable  _something_  rose inside of him, urged him to run which he barely ignored, and reaped him of all reason, of sanity. His ears screamed under the sudden onslaught of pressure, his eyes burned even though he blinked constantly, his mouth had grown fields of cotton where saliva once reigned, and his skin-…something danced over his skin like spiderlegs; his mind rebelled at the alien contact.  _ **Don't fucking touch me!**_

The warning echoed around his conscience like the infuriated roar of a lion. It was a snarled growl of threat, an instinctive shout that never made it to Kid's vocal chords and had manifested mentally instead. That  _something_ that was prowling inside of him stopped, Kid could feel it on a fundamental level, and dispersed through his pores after a moment of standstill. Whatever had been messing around in his psyche left a lasting impression on Kid; this sensation that thrummed through his blood like molten lava, searing in its intensity, yet it bore no pain. Only an uncomfortable feeling of exposure like…like he'd been pried open and laid bare before someone. Or something. Irritation bubbled up beneath his skin at the vulnerability.

When Kid next opened his eyes, not remembering having closed them, the sight that met him branded itself into his mind. Skulley J. Liberty stood in the center of not a brawl but a bloody holocaust. Then he was hit with a  _very familiar_ smell. His body stiffened out of its frozen state, tension causing him to unconsciously clench his hands into tight knuckled fists. It was the smell he reveled in upon leaving an island that had aroused more than his temper but his rage. It was the smell of burnt flesh. Burnt _everything_. Glinting red eyes took in the scene with studious calculation.

It was easy to see the many heaps of sorry flesh had once been the men assaulting his dragon.  _Fucking got what you deserved maggots! No one messes with a Kid pirate and lives!_

But the question was…what had he missed? What had caused this level of bloody destruction? What had Liberty done that he had missed when he'd been in the throes of his mind fighting some outside presence. Because there was nothing now in the silence of the street. No overbearing heat clogging his lungs, no forceful entity lingering inside his head, no melting, no heat, and no mirages. Only Liberty.

Kid turned his whole attention on Skulley J. Liberty, red eyes narrowed and guarded, accessing. He had a feeling that everything that had happened was somehow connected to his dragon. And he  _would_ get an explanation. Kid didn't like being kept in the dark, he lacked the patience in allowing it; knowledge was power. And right now he was severely lacking in that respect about his dragon. But that would change  _now._

Dark lips curling in a snarl of frustrated agitation Kid made to stalk out of the alley toward Lib. As he drew closer several things grew apparent to the captain. Liberty looked absolutely  _overwhelmed._ She looked dead to Kid. Pallid skin, bloodshot teal eyes with black bruises under each, tousled hair, ragged bloodied clothing, and tears. Wait _–_ …teal eyes?

Kid immediately eyed Lib's face. There was no trace of brown swimming within her slit gaze. None, just like his first encounter with the wyvern. Red eyes narrowed, suspicion rampant in bloody orbs. Kid couldn't help the tension that squared his shoulders and solidified his stance in remembrance of those eyes.

Another thing that grew apparent was Lib's disconnection. Kid had been steadily walking toward her and she had done nothing to acknowledge him. A fact that pissed him off. No one ignored Eustass "Captain" Kid, no one! Before he could release any form of blistering reproach the Tri-horn  _reacted._ And for the  _second_  Goddamn time he found himself taken off guard!

Liberty screamed. It was more than a mere sound of desolation, it was a howl of unfathomable anguish such as an animal might make while predators slowly tore it to pieces. She bolted afterward and it wasn't even a run or a sprint. No, Liberty stumbled and staggered down the street until she was gone, leaving a seething Kid in her wake. But his sharp hearing could still make out the choked cries of his dragon.

Slowly, very slowly, with stiff jerky movements Kid turned to follow, something heavy - unfamiliar - in his breast, and it wasn't the anger that seared is veins.  _Why the fuck was he so shocked?_ Kid couldn't find the answer… nor could he understand the tightening in his chest.

And when Kid didn't understand something…he grew angry.

With a murderous sneer he stalked down the street leaving the steaming remains, charred market, and unknown presence behind.

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_One minute._

The moment she crossed the threshold, fumbling and hysteric, the scent of literature rose to meet her poor nostrils like a mother does a child. She is shaking, shaking from  _everything_. And for twelve seconds it is all she can do to stop the tears that sting behind her eyes, the burning sick feeling in her stomach, and the thick clogging of her throat. But the one saving grace - Spirits know she needs one - are the rows of neat, dusty books that sit on their selves like silent watchful sentinels.

Liberty knows they aren't alive, books can't possibly give comfort, but the sight of them is enough. It is enough for Liberty to know they are there, and they are waiting for her to open one and lose herself. And by the Spirits does she want to. It is enough to stand there and inhale their musky book smell that always, always calmed her in the past.

She is deeply grateful that it does not fail her now. Because she is so, so close to breaking. Again.

_Two minutes._

Skulley J. Liberty it taking it all in. For a moment, an instant, the sea of choking, depthless sorrow that fills her soul splits like the Red Sea and she _feels_. She can feel it, contentedness. It is not happiness but it is something that is outside sorrow and fear and rage. The terrible urge to fall and  _just let go_ tapers slightly, it doesn't disappear, but Lib allows herself the moment; she stands in the middle of the quaint little bookstore and for the first time in hours (ages it feels like) she feels something that resembles calm.

Not at peace. But the sort of calm after a bad storm has past. A stillness in the air. Quiet. Oh so quiet. Now she can understand, at least in part, why Jillian has always surrounded herself with silence. _It helps_ , she realized numbly,  _like a salve upon a horrendous wound_. A mirthless laugh bubbles up her throat then. No wonder Jillian had been so  _adamant_  with her argument.

Lib finally knew what she'd been missing.

_Three minutes._

She doesn't focus on her memories. New and old. Both claw at her subconscious intending to tear apart her sanity with black taloned nightmares. She focuses on the scents swirling in her nose and the aura cradling her like the mother she never knew. It works, _thank the Spirits_ , and it's not long before Liberty is freely prowling around the cases on the hunt for fairy tales and fantasies.

It is like a beacon of light to her dim world when she finds it. A savior wrapped in parchment, ink, and hide. The book is old with yellowed pages and frayed edges. Lib is immediately in love. It isn't long, nigh a minute, before she has lost herself to the faded words and sentences. Finally…finally the unbearable pain is pushed to the back of her mind and she can  _breathe_.

_Four minutes._

The book is called  _Shades of Sunrise_. It is terribly beautiful and beautifully terrible. Of course, it is a romance novel, though it possesses content Jillian herself would sneer and recoil from. It is sad in ways only star-crossed lovers and forbidden relationships can be. But it is beautiful even in its sadness, yet it is a  _different_ sorrow then the one bleeding out from her like crimson life.

It is the sadness born of new beginnings and change. That moment when one realizes that life will never be the same and they are both happy and melancholy because of it. Sitting on a cushioned seat deep in the shelves,  _Shades of Sunrise_ in hand, Lib can believe, deep down, that there is a new beginning out there. For her, for Jillian, for  _them._

She can hope.

_Five minutes._

She is angry, cursing, ranting, shouting. Because Aidanir, one of the main characters, is an  _idiot!_ Liberty is right with the other main character, Lunai Sae for wanting to  _throttle_  him. How could anyone be  _willing_  to die! There were cases where anyone would offer up their own life to protect a loved one but this-…this was suicide!  _And for what_ , Lib growled inwardly,  _a brothers closure?_ Liberty couldn't understand the male lead; how could you give up your life for someone who  _hated_  you more than anything? _How!_

Then she was squealing as only Skulley J. Liberty could, high-pitched and loud, because Lunai Sae was stopping him!  _He wasn't going to die._ Hopefully. Liberty's eyes never left the page, and her brain never focused on the hurt beneath the surface. If anything Lib was good at playing happy. It was  _her_ mask.

_Six minutes._

The little bell above the front door chimes announcing a new arrival; Lib is too engrossed within the magnificent work that is  _Shades of Sunrise_ to notice. Her sensitive nose does and Lib unconsciously sniffs the air and basks in the scent of spice and… almonds. Somewhere in her head, buried deep beneath muddled emotions and scars, a bell goes off in warning.

Lib doesn't hear it.

_Seven minutes._

Someone is staring at her and it was distracting her from her reading.  _Go away!_  She wants to be left alone, damn it! So what did Liberty do when faced with  _annoying_ strangers who couldn't take a hint? She ignored them. Attempted to, at least. How many people can go about their daily lives with some creeper staring at them! Not many! Lib couldn't stop the slight curling of her lips nor the glint of a fang; humans really irked her sometimes.  _Argh, leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!_

Instead, the stare seemed to intensify. Now the creeper was  _glaring_  at her!  _What the hell is thi_ —

"Enjoying yourself, dragon?" Rough, growling, and dangerously impatient. Dangerously familiar too.

Swallowing slowly, eyes closing, Lib sent a prayer to the Spirits for  _mercy_. Because after everything she'd been through the Gods couldn't be _that_ cruel. No, there was just no way they were that cruel. Breath hitching a little Lib opened her eyes and looked up from her book.

Oh yeah, they were cruel.

Eustass "Captain" Kid stood at the end of the aisle with feet wide apart and fists clenched.  _Why me! Why me, Gods!_

His red gaze was dark with barely contained fury and impatience which never boded well for anyone. Liberty stared, face pale from emotional strain and stress; it was late at night now and very few people walked the streets. What could Kid possibly _want_ in a bookstore? Lib couldn't see him enjoying a good book at all. The thought was just…

She shook her head to clear it and tensed when her ears caught the rustle of clothing. All at once she sensed the undeniable cloud of frustration and restlessness, it swarmed around Kid like angry bees. Even more disconcerting was the air of expectation she felt from him; the force of it was  _stifling._

Liberty rose slowly from her seat one hand clutching  _Shades of Sunrise_ while she backed away. She'd learned her lesson from their first encounter; the next time she ever got close to Kid she would be driving a needle into his clavicle. And not with a paralytic drug, but something far more lethal. The warning growl that slipped past her lips was low and guttural, threatening. She didn't have the energy nor the resolve to deal with this man right now!

Kid took in the sound with narrowed angry eyes. She dared threaten him?  _Stubborn, little wench_ , he thought as Liberty backed away again. Her countenance, Kid noted idly, looked strangely gaunt and sallow. Sickly almost. The woman that stood before him now held no resemblance with the defiant creäture he'd pinned against a wall. Not at all. The dragon in his memories wouldn't simply be _standing_  under his heavy gaze. She'd be fighting him tooth and claw, or fang and needle as it were.

But Liberty did nothing in this impromptu stand-off. There was nothing to remind Kid of the fiery rebellion back in the alley and he was…displeased by it. Completely and utterly brassed off actually.  _Where the fuck was his dragon?_ Not this weak, washed out version with the sad eyes and desolate expression. Because that was all Kid saw while he stared her down.

Bloodshot eyes, pale skin, saline tracks down her face, and- and  _weakness!_ He was  _disgusted_  by it.  _Where the_ _ **fuck**_ _was his dragon?_ He instantly detested the foul air which clung to her like skunk stink; he could almost _smell_ the pain and desperation and fear. Kid personally hated those emotions, hated them all the more in that moment because they merged with his lack of knowledge. What the hell had happened to the Wyvern Sister to make her this— _weak, fragile, human._

Spitting viciously, "What the  _fuck_  is  _wrong with you!_ "

And thus the egg cracked.

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_"What the fuck is wrong with you!"_

_"What the_ _**fuck** _ _is_ _**wrong with you!"** _

_**"What the fuck is wrong with you!"** _

The heat was stirring beneath her skin again. She could recognize the blood-red fog threatening to overtake her mind. It was dark and inky and  _vicious_. Not unlike the time on the street with the dirty  _dead_  bastards. And the tide of it rose with every echo of that arrogant demand. As if  _he_  had the  _power_ , the _right_ to demand anything of _her_ , Skulley J. Liberty! How dare he be so pithy with her! The  _nerve!_

Just the thought of such audacity had Liberty clenching her fists so tightly there was sure to be bloody indents. She didn't care at the moment. Unbeknownst to the Tri-horn a cold sliver of ice ran down her spine to fall into a pit of molten power. It unsettled the already roiling mass of emotion into chaotic churning, then it started to rise.

Lib could feel the anger inside her like a live thing, it crackled beneath her skin ever eager to loose itself on anything that roused its masters temper. Fury flickering in the backs of her eyes, depressed expression darkening, the Gifted hissed at the human before her.

 _She owed him_ _ **nothing!**_ And she said as much.

" _I_ owe you _nothing_ , human!"

Wrath stole over the Supernova's features, dark lips peeled back over bared teeth, and Kid stalked closer. The thickening of the air had Liberty's hackles rising; the bastard was either about use his devil fruit or it was just a natural response to being defied.  _Fuck you and your devil fruit_ , raged Lib with a growl.

" _Human_ ," the captain gnashed between grit teeth, hellish red eyes bright with malevolence, "No,  _I'm_  not human,  _dragon_. _I'm_ your _fucking CAPT_ — _"_

—A book smashed into his face.

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Rage.

Hot, bloodcurdling  _rage_ , roared through her veins. Great waves of fury and hatred screamed to the surface, the frustration and pain of too many hours spent pretending to be human, of hiding her true self, and of fighting the past, it all boiled too hot for her to keep contained. The force of her anger only strengthened at hearing those damning words.

She fed those same words to her rampaging emotions till they exploded through her pores; a wild abrasive thing, ugly and terrifying. Kid wanted to play dominance games with her? Fine, let him learn just how human he really was!

Violent ire burst forth from her and rode impulse into action.

Her arm rose, dropped sharply, wrist flicking the book in her grasp with unerring accuracy.  _Shades of Sunrise_ slammed into Kid's face; Liberty very rarely missed her mark. The velocity of the book drove Kid backward against the left bookcase, and for an instant he acted like any normal man would, shouting out at the pain. It brought a sense of primal satisfaction to fell her hunter and with a book no less.  _Chose the wrong dragon to mess with captain_ , thought the Tri-horn smugly, sarcasm and spite ringing heavy on the last word.

Her only regret to her sudden attack was the overturned bookcase. The books had been organized so neatly too. Lib hissed through her teeth when she realized she'd thrown her book after a moment of silence.  _Damn! It was getting good too! Argh! Now I lost my page and I can't freaking remember it! And I'll have to find it in a pile of books and that's not fucking fair! There should be a law against people interrupting people who are reading a good boo–_

He struck.

His power swirled around the room capturing air molecules and molding them into an impenetrable force field. The atmosphere grew pregnant with malice and magnetism. Liberty could feel it shifting around her like invisible beasts waiting to tear her apart. She fell into a defensive crouch in response and threw herself to the side in the same breath.

Pain cracked across her skull eliciting a yelp of shocked distress. But there was no time to stand and cry because the air was thickening again. Liberty's ears caught what she'd missed last time; the telltale whistling of projectiles. Metal projectiles. Eyes flashing angrily Lib threw her arm out, four needles clashing with nuts and screws, just in time to block her face. She rolled with the motion the  _ting-clack-ting_  of the impacting metal loud in her ears.

Where was Kid, anyway? Liberty glanced quickly around the ruined aisle but saw nothing of the Supernova.  _Coward!_

Before the word could echo twice in her head the Gifted was dodging again. Screws and nuts and washers. What the hell was this!? With a snarl she was throwing more of her bone needles to intercept the threat, though it did nothing to halt the barrage in the long run. And that  _really_  pissed her off.

Then she saw him. A sardonic sneering grin warped his face from his place against the far wall. He leaned on what appeared to be a collapsed bookcase, twin red eyes watching wickedly. Liberty noted with mounting hatred the palm of one hand lazily outstretched purple sparks zigzagging around the fingers. His devil fruit.

 _Bastard. Bastard!_ _**Bastard!** _

A red haze descended over her vision when said bastard started  _laughing._ Loud, husky chortles that shook his frame as he threw back his head like a lunatic. Liberty glared, eyes narrowed with black fury, teeth bared.

"Oh, are you done?" Kid sneered contemptuously, mockingly, "Well, that's too bad 'cause I was hoping to split that fucking skull of yours, dragon." The once-over he treated her too left Lib feeling very, very violated. "Maybe then you'll grow some fucking sense, bitch." That evil Glasgow smile was back.  _Oh, screw this!_

Liberty lunged, an inhuman war cry of rage ripping from her lips, and took Kid to the floor. This time there was no devil fruit, no needles, no poison, only brute strength and a penchant for beating the shit out of the other. It was a tussle of animalistic fury and base instinct; dominance. They rolled and threw each other around on the floor of the bookstore determined to pin the other and gain the upper hand.

Snarls, growls, hisses, curses, and other sounds of exertion echoed around the room. They grew louder when Liberty managed to wrap her hands around Kid's neck. A sharp buck of his hips sent her careening to the side with a furious shout and left bright red scores down the soft skin of his throat. He hissed out a " _fuck!_ " at the new abrasions but ignored them in favor of pouncing on his opponent.

A pale fist punching into her diaphragm had the air whooshing out of her lungs. But it didn't stun Lib for long. On the next pass she grabbed his wrist using her strength to force it over her head. The power behind his swing had Kid falling forward with his own momentum. Grinning viciously Liberty jerked on the limb a second time right as she swung her head up and rammed it into Kid's nose.

She was only sorry the angle was wrong else she would've broken it.

The roar of anger and pain was enough to get Lib out from under the cursing Supernova. Though he wasn't one of the Supernova for nothing; the cursing never stopped but her adversary whipped around in a crouch grabbing her wrist and shoulder to throw her across the room. Several bookcases didn't survive the throw and toppled when her body shot through them. The fourth resisted her forward motion, however it was painful having ones ribs and breasts rammed into something hard and unforgiving. There was something warm and wet running down the side of her face, and a hand passing over the abused skin came back red; blood, her blood.

The sight of it just made her _angrier_. Ripping herself from the smashed bookcase Lib released a low growl that vibrated the air around her. Bright teal eyes hazed over with a dozen kinds of fury barreled into Kid. Grinning broadly the captain crooked his fingers and motioned her to come at him. "That was fucking pathetic, but the captain is always the strongest in a crew."

_Oh no he didn't!_

He did.

Liberty didn't care that she'd fallen for his bait; all she had on her mind was tearing that grin off his face. With a hair-raising snarl she summoned her tail using it as a spring-board forward. The quicksilver launch of her attack gave Lib the window she'd been looking for. A split second of surprise which flickered over the assholes face giving her enough time to wrap her fist around his outstretched hand. The one he'd been shamelessly taunting her with.  _Fucking bastard!_

Remembering his words only had her digging her claws into his flesh all the harder. Yanking Kid's arm to the side, she slammed every ounce of her weight into his stance to throw his equilibrium off; the speed by which she fell made it so that Kid couldn't compensate the loss of balance. The thud of his body had the furious heat inside of her trembling in primal satisfaction.

Though her assault didn't stop there. For the few precious seconds that Kid was stunned Lib moved for the follow through. Straddling his waist she wrenched his other arm up while her tail pinned his legs. Fangs bared she dug her claws into the clothed appendage hoping to puncture something vital.

The air hummed with danger, and Liberty could suddenly sense the rage coming off the man under her in waves.  _Good!_ Kid chuckled darkly, eyes of blood and fire gleaming with predatory intelligence. Lib stared, watching the play of sinister emotion with wary tension. For several seconds they lay their breath raspy from hard hits against the chest, bruises darkening over bits of exposed skin, and blood weeping from flesh scraped and ripped upon too many surfaces.

_Instinct was the only thing that saved her._

Liberty felt that intrinsic connection inside of her shriek with warning half an instant before she was lunging backward. Kid had sought to slash her with his own dagger by use of his dastardly devil fruit. The weapon itself hovered over his form motionless but threatening nonetheless. Kid lay propped up on his elbows face twisted grotesquely in a maniacal grin; the sight of it disturbed Liberty because it was eerily at odds with the poisonous rage lurking in his eyes. The expression as a whole immediately sent Lib into a defensive crouch claws at the ready.

Liberty could feel the fear under the smokescreen of her anger and while it dampened the effect the emotion still sent ice through her veins. That look on his face was both triumph at something she wasn't privy to and fury at her defiance.

…She didn't want to  _go near him_. Not when his features were set with something maliciously conniving. The tension running rampant through her solidified her blood when the Supernova climbed to his feet. His form rose with a sort of panther-like grace that should not have been beautiful to Liberty. She wanted to look away but that would leave her open for attack; first rule of battle, never take your eyes off your opponent.

A curl of satisfaction seared through Kid whose crazed smile widened at the feeling. It was perfect.  _She_ was perfect. And watching her as she was now sent spikes of heat down south. The violence he'd just participated in was magnificent. The damage within the bookstore brought a sense of familiarity that Kid basked in. The destruction was  _beautiful._  What made this scene all the more appealing to the Supernova was that Liberty herself had helped in the devastation.

And the icing on the cake. The reason for his bout of self-satisfaction?

_She'd enjoyed every minute of it._

Oh, Kid was very, very aware of the intensity of his own temper. Few could stand in its wake and live to spin tales. He embraced his rage wholly and could pinpoint with complete certainty when someone else did as well.

She had the option of running away from him…and she hadn't.  _She hadn't._

Kid's insane grin disappeared into a knowing smirk. One he noticed had Lib scowling in barely restrained confusion. He was definitely throwing her off. Kid had to chuckle at that; she looked so, so frustrated and angry. So unaware of what she'd given him through her actions…or lack of thereof.

"Tell me, dragon, did you _enjoy_ our bout of destruction?"

Watching Liberty evaluating the demolition for the first time almost had Kid throwing back his head in laughter. It was rich really. Seeing the detachment fade into shock followed by what looked like anguish. Tch, books. Kid nearly sneered. The bookstore hadn't been all that big or spacious to begin with so the space their fight had taken up nearly swamped the whole of it. They'd taken out four of the five aisles and nearly all the bookcases were piles of shelves due to his devil fruit.

The eyes, Kid noticed when he focused on Lib's face, had returned to their normal state. Brown-teal. That glint of rabid feral rage was gone from Liberty's gaze. But now that he'd gotten a closer look Kid  _knew_  it was there lurking under the surface of her  _happier_  emotions.

Kid grabbed his floating dagger and sheathed it against his chest where it belonged before speaking again. How he would savor the jolting horror coming over her when realization struck.

"If I had known you had a thirst for  _this_  type of _strenuous activity_ I would've hunted your ass down a lot sooner, bitch." The Tri-horn's face was _priceless!_

This time the laughter came, uproarious and loud, as it bounced around the small shop. Slit eyes glared spitefully had him but it only made Kid laugh harder. "I… _do not_ thirst for violence! I'm not _that_ desperate for something to amuse me, bastard!" Liberty spat angrily.

Mocking red eyes met infuriated brown-teal with smug arrogance. It had Lib bristling like a pissed off porcupine.

Smirk nearly splitting his face in half Kid growled, "Then why didn't you pull that bullshit with the needle like last time? Seems to me, " Kid appraised the havoc around him with exaggerated flare, red eyes glittering mercilessly, "like you stayed to reap the benefits of a good rampage."

And there it was…

The horrified realization on Liberty's face just before she burst through the ceiling nourished Kid like the headiest of triumphs.

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… _Seems to me like you_ _ **stayed**_ _to reap the benefits of a_ _ **good rampage**_ _…_

Those haunting damning words dropped like a guillotine blade on her head. Liberty had no words of defense to throw at the smirking son of a bitch who stood so confidently, so  _arrogantly_  in front of her. She couldn't stand the glint of self-satisfaction in his cruel red eyes. No more than she could accept what had been so ruthlessly thrown in her face.

Liberty wasn't a violent person. Anyone would get angry, even enraged if properly provoked, but that didn't mean she went looking for trouble! And whatever it was that seethed beneath her skin and heated her veins like a volcano blast wasn't her! She had a temper but nothing like this!

 _I would never cause this in a bookstore!_ The only destruction that was deserved was given to the marines and their self-righteous bullshit! Not an innocent store!

But deep down in the very recesses of her soul she knew Kid was right. And that miniscule acceptance had a wave of cold terror freezing her limbs and icing over her senses. She…she had to…get away!

Get away from those hellish knowing eyes!

Calling her wings to her with a desperate mental cry Liberty escaped in the only direction her terrified senses knew; up. Up was safe for a dragon. Wood, mortar, and metal were no match for a frightened Gifted whose wings tore easily through man-made material.

Liberty flew over the lawless grove where night still reigned supreme and tried to quell the loud shrieking laughter that chased her ears.

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Law's boots made a soft click as he strode down the metallic corridor leading away from his infirmary. The air that swirled around him as he walked crackled with the unseen energy of his power and the undercurrent of static that clung to him since he had eaten the Ope Ope no Mi. His strides were long and sure, the gait unhurried and confident just as his outward appearance was; his thoughts, on the other hand, were churning like bloodthirsty whirlpools.

One of the most predominant thoughts being…

_When was the last time he had been on the receiving end of a concussion?_

He couldn't remember.

And yet, here he was leaving  _his own infirmary_  with a pounding headache. Normally, Law would just chuckle at the irony of it all but this time…this time he wasn't chuckling.

 _("You…," her voice was low, empty, and cold, "are a fool. If you get near me…," Lips turned in a tiny, heartless smile, "you will lose_ _**everything** _ _.")_

Frowning, Law licked his lips out of habit, a sense of distant pain steering his fuming mind toward the source; he was clenching his hands to the point where he was nearly cutting himself open with his own nails. With a silent sneer the Dark Doctor allowed his fingers to unfurl but the seething fury that hissed through his veins remained, pulsing like a livid wound. Those whispery words echoed right along with his restrained anger tempting him over and over with their presumptuous defiance.

 _("If you get near me…")_ A warning.

 _("you will lose_ _ **everything**_ _.")_ A threat.

He was under no delusions; Jillian had told him in no uncertain terms to stay away from her.  _Stay away._ An order. She'd given him, Trafalgar Law, an  _order._ As if  _she_ were the captain and not him. Law felt his frown stretch back so he was baring his teeth in a half snarl.  _He_ was the  **captain**.  _He_  gave the orders. And may God damn anyone who tried to wrestle that power from him.

Law flings the door to his rooms open, stalks through the portal, and slams it closed. His bedroom is clean and immaculately kept but it does nothing to assuage his temper. Her voice is still hissing in his ear, cold and threatening; hearing it sends a muscle in his jaw jumping. He'd been  _so close_  to his goal but he'd gotten sidetracked with the entrance of other variables. The ambush for one had stolen his attention, then Jillian herself with her strange comatose of fear, and the list of distractions went on. There were very few things that could tear Law's focus away and  _keep_  it away; the chess scene had done both miraculously. Law was learning - with each new encounter - that  _nothing_  involving Sonneillon B. Jillian was pellucid.

Everything that surrounded the teal-haired minx was either swathed in mystery, therefore distracting, or wrapped in code that Law was loath to not attempt to decipher. Such an impulse was…dangerous. Then again, Law loved danger but this time a line had been crossed and he did not suffer provocation.

Never again would he fall under the grips of petty puzzles no matter how seductive in their knowledge they were. Jillian held secrets, yes, but what was the point in dissecting the pieces when he was risking the entire puzzle? No, there would be a time in the near future where Law could poke and prod at the hidden intricacies of Jillian's soul. But for now…

Law felt a dark smile overtake his frown, a far truer one than he had used in a long time.

He'd played nice with Jillian and she'd thrown it back in his face; the time had finally come for Law to show his wyvern that _he_ was  _in control_.

He sauntered over to a drawer by his bedside, opened it, and peered inside.

The smirk that stole over his face was  _terrifying._


End file.
